Stan's Phobia
by Madam RedRose25
Summary: Snakes. Flying. Spiders. Everyone has a phobia and are not afraid to let the world know. But Stan cannot let others know his. He cannot let his friends know there is nothing he is afraid of more than going to the dentist.  Full summary inside


_**STAN'S PHOBIA**_

Full summery: Snakes. Flying. Spiders. Everyone has a phobia and is not afraid to let the world know. But Stan cannot let others know his. He cannot let his friends know there is nothing he is afraid of more than going to the dentist. Unfortunately for him, he is about to go through trial and error to try and reverse this before things get worse. Little does he know where overcoming his fears will lead him…

A/N: This story is purely the work of my mind wandering and latching onto what seemed to be a simple daydreaming scene. Before I knew it, I _had_ to write this. In no way am I saying Stan has a fear of dentists, this was just something I had to write. Do not associate his phobia with other fanfics I have written. Please enjoy!

At 11:30 AM the lunch bell rang and the halls of South Park Elementary was soon filled with the usual hustle and bustle of students eager to buy lunch or open up their lunch boxes to see what their parents provided for the day. Stan walked along his friends Cartman, Kenny, and Butters to the familiar path to the cafeteria. As usual, Cartman was the quickest there.

"I swear, the only time you're ever ahead of us is on the way to lunch," Stan remarked as they took a seat at one of their preferred tables.

"You'd hurry too if you knew your mom gave you a slice of pecan pie for lunch dick face," Cartman said in defense. They all placed their home-made lunches onto the table. Stan happily opened his The Dark Knight-themed lunchbox and went to see what his mother packed for him that day.

"Sweet! I haven't had peanut butter and banana in weeks," he smiled as he took out his sandwich.

Cartman made a face as he stuffed his face with his own sandwich (cheese, pepperoni, sausage, and bacon on a giant bagel). "I still say that's the sickest combination on a sandwich ever."

Stan ignored him as he looked at his snacks: sweet mandarin oranges in a cup, celery which he knew he wouldn't eat, and a rich fudgy brownie. He smiled wider when he saw a can of refreshing Sprite to drink as well. His favorite soda- this was going to be a pretty good lunch indeed. Sure school food was a nice way to go every week but nothing could beat the many options a mother chose herself and packed because she enjoyed doing so. He rolled his eyes when he saw what she had written him on his napkin: _Have a FANTASTIC day sweetheart! I love you to the moon and back! XOXO Mom_. He wouldn't admit it to anyone but himself but her daily notes was something he always looked forward to. The boys soon began talking about how boring the social studies lesson was from Mr. Garrison minutes ago and how lame the math lesson in the morning was too. Only then did Stan feel someone sit next to him. He smiled.

"Hey dude," he greeted his best friend Kyle.

"Hey, what did I miss?" Kyle asked as he took out his lunch too.

"Nothing, just some crap about the gold rush, it is so stupid," Stan passed off. "Where were you dude?"

"I just came back from the orthodontist," Kyle stated matter-of-factly.

"Ha! What a Jew," Cartman pointed.

Kyle glared. "Oh shut-up Cartman, that's not even enough to go off on."

"How- how was it Kyle?" Butters asked, eating yogurt.

"It was fine really, I've been seeing him since last year; he just wanted to make sure everything was okay which it was," Kyle passed off.

Stan blinked. "Um, what's an orthodontist Kyle?"

His friends looked at him.

"You don't know what an orthodontist is?" Kenny asked.

"_You_ know what it is you poor piece of crap?" Cartman looked surprised. "Your family can't even pay for heat in that shack of yours!"

Kyle looked at his friend. "Dude, Stan, an orthodontist. You know, the guy who's trained in aligning teeth and whatnot. He just wanted to make sure mine are growing in the way they should and they are. It's great, I don't think I'm going to need braces in the future," he finished with a grin.

Stan still looked lost. He looked down at his mandarin orange cup and asked quietly, "Isn't that a- a dentist?"

"No, it's an orthodontist. Like I said, he specializes in correcting teeth and whatnot, makes sure they're growing in right. The guy who puts braces on people. It's a different branch from just a dentist Stan," Kyle explained.

"Oh."

"Have you not been to one yet Stan?" Butters asked.

"What? I- yeah, of course. I just- never mind," Stan stammered. He gave a tiny cough before saying, "Hey, did anyone see Ubaldo Jimenez pitch last night? Man, he was on fire!"

Apparently no one heard him.

"Well that's good you don't need braces Kyle," Butters spoke. "I don't know about me though, my orthodontist doesn't want to predict anything until all my baby teeth fall out."

"_You've_ been to an ortho-whatever too Butters?" Stan asked.

"Well sure Stan, we all have right?" Butters looked at the kids at the table. Cartman rang in as well as the three kids at the far end of the table.

"Well I don't think I need braces either," Cartman boasted.

"Yeah right, considering how much you eat your teeth are probably fucked up already," Kyle said.

"Ay! For your information Kyle, I've only ever had one cavity! So HA!" Cartman said with a dark smile.

"Guys, can we talk about something else please?" Stan said uncomfortably.

"We should before Cartman stretches his stupid lies more," Kyle looked at the fat boy with hate.

"I am not lying asshole! I have a healthy smile! And brush and floss twice a day! So I'd shut up if I were you Kahl before I kick your nutsack like a fucking football!"

"Guys, really," Stan strained. "Let's talk about something else."

There was a minute of silence before Kyle spoke up again. "Well what about you Stan? Do you know if you're going to need braces in the future or not?"

Stan looked at him and swallowed thickly. "I uh- I dunno. I don't think so," he said quickly.

Cartman laughed and pointed. "Yeah, sure. With that gap on the left side of your front teeth and your sister in head-gear you're going to be the first kid in class with metal in your mouth!"

At this Stan slammed his fist on the table causing everyone to look at him.

"Stan, dude, are you okay?" Kyle asked uncertain.

Stan gave Cartman a look of anger and fear as he rubbed his now smarting hand. He was breathing slightly fast now. He tore his eyes off Cartman and said flatly, "I'm fine."

"Sure dude?"

Stan drew in a breath and nodded. "Yeah. Let's just talk about something else."

Kyle looked at the other boys. Butters shrugged so Kyle began to talk about basketball. Stan was hardly listening- he didn't care much for the sport, he got bored watching games on TV and only enjoyed playing it for fun at the park. However it was hard to focus on anything but what his friends were discussing two minutes ago. He hated the words they used. It made him extremely uncomfortable, his stomach even bubbled with nerves. It still felt like this so it was hard to finish his lunch. They couldn't know. Not at all. He would be the laughing stock of the whole class. The whole fourth grade. The whole school! He shuddered before taking a long drink of his soda, waiting for these thoughts to leave his mind.

Late afternoon had Stan and Kyle upstairs playing in Stan's room. Meanwhile their mothers were downstairs talking over some tea.

"-it's such a relief really," Sheila was saying. "I mean little Kyle's always had a pretty nice smile. It's just good to hear from an expert he won't need braces when he's older."

"That is good," Sharon smiled. "So many kids end up with them, I do feel bad. Why I was in them when I was thirteen, as was my brother. My sister was the lucky one; she had perfect teeth from day one."

Sheila took a sip from her cup. "But what about young Stanley?"

Sharon blinked. "What about him?"

"Aren't you afraid he may end up in headgear or braces like his sister? Seems as if that kind of thing is hereditary in your family Sharon," Sheila pointed out.

At this Sharon set her cup down gently and took her time answering. "Well, I do worry about that yes."

Sheila waited for her to speak again but she did not. She took it upon herself to continue the discussion. "Do you know anything? Is anything official? What does his orthodontist think?"

Sharon chewed her lip. "Nobody knows anything yet Sheila."

"Really?" the rounder of the two looked surprised. "That's not good. Are you sure Stan's comfortable with his doctor? I mean you have to know something by now, he's nine. If you want I can refer you over to Kyle's orthodontist, if you think a change is in order."

"Whoa wait, calm down there Sheila, it's not that big of a deal," Sharon steadied her friend. This was it, she was cornered. Might as well spill the beans while she had the chance. "You see Sheila; I actually… haven't taken Stan in to see an orthodontist yet."

Sheila gasped with her infamous, "Whatwhatwhat?"

"I know, I know," Sharon looked guilty.

"Sharon, what on earth are you waiting for? There are countless studies out there that say a child should be taken in to see one by the age of eight or so. Why haven't you taken Stan in yet?"

Sharon gripped her teacup and tried hard not to glare. Like any mother, she did not like being talked to as if she were an unfit parent. She cleared her throat. "It's not that easy Sheila. You don't know Stanley, he hasn't- I mean he doesn't want to"- she sighed. "It's complicated."

"Well when did you take Shelley in to see an orthodontist?"

At this Sharon sobered up. "When she was eight." She rubbed her eyes. "I don't know what to do Sheila, I know I have to take Stan in to see one soon, like you said, he's nine. At this age a trained professional will be able to see how the teeth are growing in, how the jaw is growing, if any teeth need to be removed, if the baby teeth are causing any problems. And most importantly, if a child will need braces. I want to take Stan in to see Shelley's orthodontist, Dr. Zephyr, but I can't. It's so complicated. I know I shouldn't hold it off any longer but I have no idea what I should do."

Sheila placed a hand on the other woman's and patted it. "Whatever are you on about Sharon?"

"Stanley… he- he has a fear of going to the dentist."

Sheila smiled and took another sip from her drink. "Oh Sharon that's nothing, that's such a common fear in children. I'm sure he'll do fine."

Sharon shook her head. "You don't understand Sheila; it's not a normal fear. No, no. It's much more than that. I really think Stanley has a phobia."

"A phobia? Of going to the dentist? Stanley? Really?"

Sharon nodded. "I'm not going to go into detail now but it's been this way for years. He's had a string of bad experiences… in fact; Stan hasn't seen a dentist now in over two years."

Sheila looked positively awestruck and lost for words. "Oh Sharon…" was all she could say.

"I've tried taking him, don't think I haven't. But it's always the same. I tell him, he immediately panics, and on the way there he's tense in the car. I have to practically drag him out of the car and into the building. And once there he really makes a scene. He sinks to the floor, cries, struggles against me and against those who try to help. He will not _not_ go behind that door to the treatment rooms. Usually it takes ten to twenty minutes before we have to leave, it's that bad." Sharon rubbed her nose. "The last time he stepped foot into a dentist office for longer than fifteen minutes was when he was seven. We tried again last year but it only lasted for five minutes. But the last time he actually allowed someone to examine him was six-and-a-half."

Sheila truly looked like she was fishing for words now. She shook her head. "Sharon, my goodness I had no idea."

Sharon shrugged and sniffed. "It's not as if people ever bring it up. Randy knows about our son's problem of course. I guess we never had the need to tell anyone."

Sheila shook her head. "But this is Stanley. He's such a headstrong little boy, always determined to do something. I just can't see him having this type of phobia."

"Well Stan actually does have a few stand-out fears and has troubles getting his mind around certain things. My son doesn't have 'mental problems', but it is difficult for him to jump over certain hurdles."

Sheila still looked disapproving at Sharon. "I honestly had no idea Sharon. I really did not know things were so bad in that department for you two."

Sharon could only look on helplessly and frustrated. "Now you know why I can't simply take my son to see about how his teeth are growing in. He would have none of it. It really would be a bad idea."

"So then what are you going to do? This can't go on Sharon; something has to be done about it soon before it's too late."

Tears filled Sharon's eyes by this point. Sheila helped her to some tissue and took her hand again, waiting for her to catch some composure.

"I want to do something about it so much Sheila," Sharon cried. "I am so afraid that something bad might happen soon and things will end up worse than how they are now. I'm afraid Stan is going to have some sort of dental-related emergency. Then what? How the hell will any of us be able to deal with it? A lot of it is my fault. I- I enable him to eat and drink the way he does. Sure he's not chubby, sure he loves to run around and play outside, but there's so much more to it. I still let him eat candy whenever he wants. I never tell him no on sweet things. Just- just today, I gave him a can of Sprite for lunch! I'm a horrible mother!"

Sheila rubbed her back. "There now, calm down Sharon. You aren't a bad mother."

Sharon just rolled her eyes and dabbed at them.

"You're doing a fine job. Stanley loves you very much and respects you. You just have to change up a few things from now on."

"It's going to be so difficult. He's used to being able to have up to three or more sodas a week. I don't know how to stop it. I don't know how to deal with his phobia at all."

Sheila continued to comfort the mother. "It's not as if there isn't a way to do it. People get over their fears and phobias every day! You just have to do some research and find out what you can do to help Stan. He has that classic adorable crooked smile of a nine-year-old but it won't look as cute by the time he's fifteen."

At that moment the mothers heard pounding on the stairs and Stan and Kyle ran down looking winded but happy.

"Mom, can me and Kyle fly my air rocket outside?" Stan asked.

Sharon pursed her lips. "I don't know Stanley; it might be too cold today. And I don't like you using matches."

"Please Mom? Pleeeeease?" Stan cupped his hands and gave a pouty face.

Sharon sighed. "Fine."

"Yes! Thanks Mom!" Stan beamed at her. Sharon caught sight of the smile she was so used to seeing for her son and felt a little off-guard by his small but noticeable gap on the top. She shook it off as the boys hurried outside. Sharon turned back to Sheila as she clutched her now cold cup of tea.

"You're right Sheila, the sooner Stan sees a dentist and orthodontist the better."

It was Wednesday night and as usual Sharon was tucking Stan into bed. She watched as he made himself comfortable on his mattress before she pulled his comforter over his shoulders. She bit her lip and touched the side of his face.

"Stanley, baby, I have to tell you something that's going to happen tomorrow."

Stan looked up at his mother. "Okay then."

This was going to be harder than she thought. She drew in a breath and took his hand. He felt suspicious now. "Stanley, I scheduled a dentist appointment for you for tomorrow."

At this Stan's eyes bulged and he tore his hand out of his mom's and sat bolt upright. "What? No, no!"

"Sweetie just listen to me"-

"No Mom! No! I'm not going! I won't! I won't!" he cried.

"Stanley," Sharon sighed.

"No! How could you do that to me? How could you? I am not going! I am NOT!"

Sharon held onto his shoulders. "Stanley look at me: it's not going to be as bad. I promise you."

"No! You _always_ say that Mom!" there were tears in his eyes.

"Stan…"

"You _always_ say it's not going to be bad, it won't hurt, it'll be fine, but it _won't_! It won't!" he let out a small whimper.

Sharon looked at her son, upset, and rubbed his arm. "But it will be different this time baby. I found out about a new dentistry they opened only last year. It specializes in treating children so it won't be like those other times."

Stan just continued to cry softly. Sharon wiped away a few of his tears and hugged him. "Ohh, don't cry honey, it'll be okay. I know you don't want to go but you have to." She let go and had him face her. "Tell you what; if you step into the office with me tomorrow I'll give you a special treat okay? How does that sound?"

Stan didn't answer, just let out a few more sniffles. Sharon pushed him gently back onto his pillow.

"I promise you everything will be okay honey. Now get some sleep."

With that she turned off the light and shut the door.

Throughout school that Thursday Stan was fully alert despite not getting enough sleep the night before. He was afraid at any moment he would have to be sent to the front office for his mother had shown up to take him to that dreaded place. He could hardly stomach any lunch and when his friends asked him what was wrong he simply did not answer. At 12:30 the class was sitting quietly, reading a chapter in their social studies books and taking notes. That's when the phone rang. Stan looked up from his work to see Mr. Garrison answer. He nodded a few times and did a couple 'agreeing' sounds before hanging up.

"Stanley, pack up your things. Your mother is waiting for you in the front office," Mr. Garrison told the boy.

Stan gulped. "Are- are you sure?"

"Yes I am sure," Mr. Garrison rolled his eyes. "Now hurry up."

Stan looked around. Kyle shrugged at him, Cartman just stared blankly back. Stan looked at his teacher with guilt almost in his eyes.

"Mr. Garrison, I don't really think"-

"Pack up your things and leave NOW Stanley!" Mr. Garrison ordered, finger pointing at the door.

Gulping, Stan slowly took out his backpack and put his notebook, pencil box, and book inside.

"Where are you going dude?" Kyle asked him.

"Nowhere," Stan murmured. He walked past Mr. Garrison's desk.

"Don't forget to do problems 3-25 on page 89 in your math book Stan!" Mr. Garrison reminded him.

Stan nodded mutely and began his decent down the halls. Maybe he should make a run for it. Leave out a back door or something and stay at the park for a while when there was still time. No, he couldn't, he'd be in too much trouble. As his feet drew his body closer to up front, his stomach grew more and more queasy. He could hear the sounds of a dentist drill; feel the cold metal of the other tools, the latex of the gloves, the clean smell lingering in the air… by the time he opened the door to the administration's office he puked on the floor.

"Stanley!" he heard his mother cry.

She went over to him while the administrator got cleaning supplies to clean the mess up.

"Sweetie, are you feeling okay?" Sharon asked.

Stan sniffed. "I dunno. I just had to throw-up."

Seeing as he wasn't going to do it again, Sharon urged him to the other side of the office where she signed him out of class early and went to the car. He was able to climb into the passenger's seat without intervention but as soon as the car drove out of the school's parking lot, Stan immediately became tense.

"Now don't you worry Stanley, today is going to go smoothly," Sharon began. "I checked the phonebook to find the best place to take you and luckily found a really great dentistry that's only ten minutes away! It's called South Park Children's Dentistry and the dentist in charge is a man called Dr. Steels. They have a website online which I looked at last night. It's very pretty; it has a neat-looking jungle theme throughout! There are toys and games to play with in the waiting room and you can watch TV and DVDs in the treatment rooms! Isn't that neat?"

Stan was still gripping the seat like a lifeline.

Sharon sighed. "Please don't cause a scene again sweetie, I want this to be a good experience for you."

At this Stan looked at her. "Good experience? Every time I ever went to the dentist it's been a horrible one Mom!"

Sharon looked upset. "I know Stan. I admit, I'm not very happy with how things were years ago either. Dr. Cartritch was not the greatest at handling children. The dental hygienists weren't the best either. It defiantly wasn't a child-friendly environment. But you know why I took you there right? It's hard to find good help and attention in a small town such as South Park. The dentistry was and still is right next to Tom's Rhinoplasty, it was very convenient."

Stan turned back to facing front ways.

"But things have changed over the past few years. South Park is more like a suburban town now; there are more specialized medical centers and offices than ever before. Frankly I think we're lucky that such a nice pediatric dentistry was built just last year."

"We haven't even been inside Mom, I bet this 'jungle-theme' is just a distraction from everything that makes it horrible," Stan said seriously.

Sharon faced him for a moment. "Stanley, please try to be somewhat upbeat about this. I know you don't want to go to the dentist, I know you have an immense fear of going"-

"Phobia," Stan corrected.

"Right, phobia. Anyway, you can't let that stop you."

"You have a phobia of going on a cruise," Stan said blankly.

Sharon's brows deepened slightly. "That is different Stan. I can avoid going on a big cruise ship if I want, it's not going to make or break me if I ever went on one. But going to the dentist is entirely different. You're life and well-being can depend on how well you care for your teeth."

"I brush and floss every day!" Stan said in defense.

"That's not enough, problems occur no matter how well you try to avoid them. What I'm trying to say is Stan, the longer you hold off dental work, the worse things are going to be in the future. What if you fall off your skateboard tomorrow and knock out a tooth? Then what?"

Stan was back to being fearful again. Sharon pulled into a parking lot of a business plaza. They were there. She sighed as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not trying to scare you sweetie, I just want the best for you. Will you try to let the doctor examine you today? For me?"

Stan looked out the window and his eyes widened when he saw South Park Children's Dentistry written in fun colorful letters behind him. His chest constricted and with a shaky hand he pulled out his asthma inhaler and took a puff in case he needed to calm his lungs. Sharon got out of the car and opened his. The seatbelt was still over him.

"Stan, are you going to make this easy or not?"

"I don't wanna go Mom," he squeaked.

"Stanley, please unbuckle your seatbelt and get out the car."

It took a few more minutes before Stan took off his seatbelt and hopped out the car. Sharon took a hold of his hand and together they made their way across the parking lot to the building that shared the same wall as a Tanning Salon. As soon as they reached the curb Stan began to panic and struggled against his mother's hold.

"I don't wanna go in Mom!" he cried.

"Stan please don't do this to yourself and me," Sharon said desperately.

"I don't wanna go in! _Pleeeease_ Mom! I don't wanna go!"

With difficulty Sharon managed to open the door and pull Stan inside. Stan was still trying to get out of her grip.

"Noooo!"

"Stan please, we're inside, try to be quiet."

There were now tears in his eyes and he looked terrified. Sharon bent to his level.

"Look Stanley, look at the walls! Doesn't this place look nice?" she pointed out to the green walls with fun paintings of jungle animals around as well as a giraffe that was made of wood that popped from the wall. But he had no interest, a tear already rolled down his cheek and he was still struggling. "Stan, look- they have a video game station set up. Why don't you go distract yourself until you're called in okay?"

"No! No! Nooo! I wanna go home! I wanna go home!" he begged.

Sharon stood up and looked around, biting her lip. Even though she was in a place dedicated for children she still felt embarrassed by how her son was acting. She caught site of another mother who was sitting nearby with her young daughter. The blonde woman luckily gave her an apologetic look which made her relax slightly.

"Mom! Mooom! Please! I wanna go home!" Stan continued to say.

"Stanley, you have to calm down. You might upset that little girl sitting over there," Sharon said softly, nodding to the woman's daughter. Although she looked quite happy as she played with her Barbie.

"I can't stay in h-here Mom! I can't!"

Fearing he might run out if she let go, Sharon took Stan with her to the receptionist.

"Hello!" the woman behind the desk smiled.

"Hello," Sharon greeted, looking winded. "I scheduled an appointment for my son a couple days ago."

"Of course, what's his name?" the lady looked to her computer screen.

"His name is- calm down!" she said forcefully to Stan who was practically on his knees by now in tears.

"I- d-don't wanna be here Mom…. Please, I wanna leave…"

"His name is"-

"Please Mommy; I can't d-do this. I'm too s-scared."

At this Sharon gasped and went down to her knees again. Any time she was called 'Mommy' now was a cause for alarm.

"You're scared honey?"

Stan nodded.

"On a scale of one to ten?"

"E-eleven."

Sharon took a good look at her son for the first time since they stepped in. It was red, his eyes wet, tear tracks down his cheeks, lips quivering in the way only a child's could. He was also trembling. Sharon's eyes softened. It was then that she realized it would take many steps and effort on her part to help Stan get over his phobia. Today was only the beginning. She rubbed his face with her thumb.

"Oh, oh sweetie, I didn't realize just how scared you were…okay, we'll go home." She hugged him tight before looking up at the receptionist.

"Maybe another day. It's fine," the lady smiled, reading her mind.

Sharon smiled back gratefully before letting go of Stan's sweaty hand and walking out and back to the car. The first thing his friends asked about after school was why he was taken out of class. He simply shrugged and said he had a doctor's appointment and left it at that. The boys did decide however to throw the football around on the street where Butters lived. He of course did not do a whole lot of catching but was happy to be involved nonetheless.

"And Cartman tosses it to Marsh!" Cartman yelled, throwing the football Stan's way.

Stan backed up and up until he caught the ball in his arms- and fell onto some flowers below. He heard a shriek from the house the tulips were growing on and the boys gathered around him as a lady came hurrying down.

"Not my tulips!" she moaned as Stan quickly got up. "I spent forever growing these!"

Stan glanced at his friends.

"Um, sorry ma'am."

The woman who looked to be in her 50s sighed and shook her head. "I told you kids time again not to play near my house."

"To tell you the truth miss, we never play on this street," Kyle explained.

The woman gave a slight glare. "Must be other kids in the area then. Nevertheless, look! Look at what you did to my tulips boy!" she said to Stan.

"Sorry…" was all he could say again.

She glared. "You kids always run around, making messes, wrecking things. Why do your parents allow it?"

"We're- we're kids, it's what we do," Stan stammered.

"I will have none of that. Young man, I want you to come inside with me, I'm going to inform your parents right away."

Stan looked back at his friends mournfully as she led him up her driveway and into her house. She walked to the kitchen and picked up the phone on the wall.

"What is the number to your house?" she asked.

"Please ma'am, it's really nothing. I'm sorry I wrecked your flowers, my parents don't have to know," Stan almost pleaded.

"Tell me your name and number. Kids get away with far too much these days," she said as an afterthought.

Stan finally decided to give the lady his information since he knew she wouldn't let him leave until he did. He waited, biting his lip, as she listened for someone on the other line to pick up. Moments later-

"Yes, hello, is this the Marsh residence? Hello, my name is Gerdie Cartritch and I have your son here. He just ruined my beautiful roses and I demand some action to be taken on your part. (pause) Well you are his father aren't you? Then I want you to do something about it and discipline your son Mr. Marsh. (pause) Yes, that would be great. See you soon." She hung up and turned to the child. "Your father is coming here right now Stanley and I hope you will realize then what you did."

"I didn't do it on purpose! It was an accident! And- wait a minute, what did you say your last name was?" Stan asked.

"It's Cartritch," the lady said looking almost dignified.

Stan gulped almost painfully. "Does- what does your husband do?"

"My husband is a dentist Stanley." With that she turned her back on him and left the kitchen. "Come along then son!"

Stan was rooted to the spot. No way… there was no way in hell he was standing in the kitchen of none other than that horrible dentist he had been to almost his whole life. What were the odds? He had little time to think about it before she barked at him to come forward. Ten minutes later the sound of knocking on the front door was heard and Mrs. Cartritch opened it to reveal Randy.

"Thank-you for coming Mr. Marsh," Mrs. Cartritch said.

"Stanley what in the hell did you do this time?" were the first words out of the man's mouth.

"For the last time it was an accident!" Stan growled.

"Your son and his friends were out making a racket on my street and next thing I knew, I found your boy on top of my tulips!"

"I fell! Cartman was throwing the football my way and I backed up too much and landed on them!" Stan explained to his father.

"Seems like everything you do is 'an accident' Stan," Randy glared.

"I'm telling the truth this time," Stan insisted.

Randy sighed and looked at the older woman. "I'm sorry about what my son did, he can be careless."

"_What_?" Stan gasped.

"Is there anything he can do to repay the damage? Any chores you have for him or work so he can learn his lesson?"

Stan could not believe what he was hearing. Then again this was his dad.

Mrs. Cartritch rubbed her chin. "Actually, I have been looking for extra help around the house ever since my husband has been working longer both in the office and at home, and my back isn't what it used to be. If I could have a set of young hands and a strong back, it would make chores so much easier for me," she softened.

"He'll take it," Randy slapped a hand over his son's back.

"_Dad_!"

"He'll be here after school Monday through Friday for two weeks."

"Dad!" he complained again.

Randy rolled his eyes. "Fine then, he'll be here every Tuesday and Thursday for three weeks."

"WHAT?"

"You have to look at this from my point of view Stan," Randy turned to his son. "You've been complaining how your snow shoveling business didn't work out. Your mother and I want you to be doing something that's out of trouble. This will be good for you."

"I don't want to be here Dad!" Stan's eyes were wide.

"I was doing all sorts of chores for others when I was your age, this is nothing." He looked back at Mrs. Cartritch. "He'll be here Tuesday."

Stan was very tense the car ride home. He was angry at his punishment, especially since it was an accident, but he was also full of fear. Finally he had to break it to his dad.

"Dad, I don't want to go there Tuesday."

"You have no choice," Randy said, eyes on the stoplight.

"You don't understand, I don't want to be in that house. I think it's the house of Dr. Cartritch."

"What?" Randy looked distracted.

"That's the woman's last name and she said her husband was a- a- dentist."

"Must be somebody else," Randy passed off.

"How many people in South Park have the last name of Cartritch?" Stan demanded. "Dad please, I'll do anything else. Just don't make me go there!"

"You're going Stanley and that's final."

Even with yesterday's disaster, Sharon was determined not to have the incident at the dentist office set its course for the rest of Stan's life. She was happy to know Stan had a new part-time 'job' for a few weeks and hoped it would clear his mind. Stan pleaded to her not to let him go. She just reminded him he would be at the house of Dr. Cartritch, not his actual practice and the chances of running into him were very slim. As soon as they got home from the meltdown she immediately began looking up information and checking the phonebook for help for her son. She had to make sure she understood everything about people with a dental phobia and asked Stan just what it was that bothered him. She also spent time trying to find ways to help him with it. She was not going to give up on him, not when the outcome of the rest of his life rested on ever getting dental work again.

Meanwhile, Kyle was over at Stan's after school that Friday doing a whole lot of nothing. The boy in the green hat noticed just how quiet and secluded Stan had been the whole day and how he didn't seem to want to do anything. He already knew all about his forced punishment with the woman yesterday but he felt something else was bothering him.

"Want to go skateboarding Stan?" Kyle asked as he tossed a small ball in the air (he had been doing this close to an hour now).

"No!" Stan said looking startled.

Kyle glared and forced Stan onto his bed. "Okay man, I'm getting sick of this: what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Stan said avoiding his sharp gaze.

"There is something up Stan, I know you by now. I recognize these little 'moods' you get into. Now tell me what it is before I just ask your mother instead."

Stan looked up. "Nothing is wrong Kyle."

"Dude, you don't want to play any video games, don't want to play with any of your toys or board games, don't want to do anything outside. You've been quiet all day at school. What is up?"

Stan looked sadly at him, almost afraid. He licked his lips; he couldn't keep a secret from Kyle, his best friend in the entire universe. They knew everything about each other. Stan played with his fingers.

"What if I told you… I've been keeping a secret from you?"

Kyle raised a brow. "What kind of secret?"

Stan shrugged. "A pretty serious one."

"How long?"

"Years."

Kyle thought. "Well, I don't know, let me hear it then I'll react."

Stan drew in a breath. "Yesterday… my mom tried taking me to the dentist. After two years."

Kyle's lips parted. "Wait what?"

"I haven't been to the dentist since I was six dude…"

"_What_?"

"I- I actually have a phobia of going," Stan gulped.

Kyle shook his head, clearing not knowing how to react. It wasn't an everyday thing your best friend confessed to. He looked over at the boy sitting across from him, fear and guilt all over his face. He wasn't lying.

"Dude…" was all he could say.

"I can't help it, I'm terrified. I hate everything about it. The tools, the chair, the dentist himself. Everything!" Stan gushed.

"Hey hey, back up. Start from the beginning," Kyle stopped him.

Stan drew in a shaky breath. "I don't really know what the beginning is. I just know I've always hated it. I never had a positive experience going to one."

"You mean ever since… what? Kindergarten? First grade? You haven't gone?"

"My mom tries taking me at least two times a year but I can never do it. We always end up leaving as soon as we get there."

Kyle frowned. "How serious is it Stan?"

Stan shrugged. "Pretty serious. I can't even make it past the waiting room. I have memories of Dr. Cartritch having at least two assistants drag me to the back just so he could look at me. You know the dentist right by my mom's work? It's small; there isn't a whole lot of room in the back. They never allowed my mom with me, save for a few times when I was really really young. He just- he isn't good. I hated him. He didn't seem to care what he was doing; fixing teeth was just a job for him, nothing else. Plus other things… it's serious Kyle and I'm scared. I wanna get over it but I can't! I don't know what to do!"

Kyle drew in a deep breath and shook his head; trying to comprehend everything Stan was saying and if there was any way around it. After a few minutes he spoke.

"Okay… first up: there has to be something we can do to help you dude. I heard there are ways to break a person out of a fear no matter how intense; you just have to stick with it. Second: you can't be the only one. I know there are stranger phobias- you sure it's a phobia?"

Stan nodded mutely.

"-phobias out there than going to the dentist. Fearing clouds or beds is a lot stupider than this. What we need to do is find something that will help you."

"My mom has been doing research all day yesterday and today," Stan said heavily.

"Hey, lighten up man. I don't want to hear you talking with a tone that says you've already given up," Kyle straightened the younger of the two up. "Look, I know you think this fear is weird- and it is, but I'm not going to make fun of you for it or something. I'm going to do what I can to help you get over it okay?"

Stan still looked worried. "But I don't know what can help. I can't even stand still in the waiting room for more than five minutes, how the hell will I ever be able to lie back in that chair?"

"We just have to take this into small steps that's all. One thing at a time. The ultimate goal in the end: have a dentist examine you without trouble. Think you can do that Stan?" Kyle smiled.

"Kyle, you don't get it; it's going to take forever"-

Kyle held out his hand. "Promise me you'll work with me as well as your mother to get you to that point. Promise."

Stan looked at his friend's hand wearily. The mere thought of lying on his back with that bib over him while someone poked and prodded his mouth made his stomach churn. But he knew he had to do it. He couldn't give up now. He got off from his bed and took hold of Kyle's hands and shook. Kyle smiled.

"Great, now we just need to begin the process."

Neither Kyle nor Sharon could find anything for Stan that same day, but on the following one Kyle came running into the Marsh household out-of-breath. It was clear he had run all the way from his house to theirs. Stan was currently sitting in front of the TV watching Animal Planet. He looked over.

"Dude, what is it?" Stan asked.

Kyle drew in a breath. "Dude, I found it! I found something that might help you!"

At that moment Sharon walked in from the kitchen.

"Lunch is ready Stanley- oh, hello Kyle."

"Mrs. Marsh, I found something that could help Stan with his phobia!"

Sharon looked surprised. "You did? What is it?"

"It's called the Fear and Phobia Conference for Children"- Kyle pulled out a paper from his pocket as mother and son drew in to look closer. "It's brand-new and perfect. It's run by a Dr. Mike Malhard who specializes in helping children with all sorts of problems."

"But what is it exactly?" Stan asked.

"Dr. Malhard will be helping kids from all ages overcome any fears they might have. The group meets every Monday and Friday to talk about their fears and phobias and together helps everyone out to overcome those fears and phobias. It'll be perfect for you Stan!" Kyle explained, looking from the flyer.

Sharon frowned. "But how can we be sure-?"

"There is a ninety-percent success rate," Kyle went on. "'Guarantee to see a difference in any child's fears or your money back,'" he read off.

Sharon took hold of the flyer to see for herself. Her eyes scanned the writing and propaganda. "Well it does sound a little promising..."

"But how do we know it'll help? I doubt one simple program will have me over my phobia in time before I lose all my baby teeth!" Stan commented.

"It's a ninety percent success rate," Sharon pointed out. Stan rolled her eyes. "Come on Stanley, we can't give up already."

"I just think it's going to take more than just this to help me," Stan commented, arms crossed lightly.

"Well I'm sure Kyle is more than willing to do whatever it takes to help, right hon?" Sharon turned to Kyle.

"Yeah dude," he agreed. "This is only the first thing. There are plenty of other steps we can take to break you from your fear. I'll get right on it to find out what the first thing should be to get you to the ultimate goal."

Stan looked up at the faces of his mother and best friend. He let out a breath. "Okay, fine."

Stan's first meeting with the Fear and Phobia Conference for Children was the coming Monday but Kyle wasted no time in trying to figure out what he could do to help Stan. He spent all that Sunday trying to have Stan talk about what he actually feared about the dentist and if he could think of anything that could help him along. Stan still did not like the idea that his friend knew this secret, he still felt embarrassed by it and he feared it was only a matter of time before Cartman and everyone else figured it out too. Stan simply told him they couldn't hang out that Sunday and hoped Cartman would leave it at that. But when Monday came he wanted to know what he wanted to do after school.

"I can't do anything after school, I'll be busy," Stan noted.

"What the hell dude? We haven't done anything since Wednesday!" Cartman complained.

"I've just been busy," Stan shrugged.

"Why the hell can't you do anything today?" Cartman demanded.

"Um…" Stan stole a nervous look with Kyle. "I- um, have a doctor's appointment at four."

"That's what you said last time," Cartman pointed out.

"I just don't want to do anything okay?" Stan said in frustration. Yeah, it was going to be very difficult indeed to keep his phobia from Cartman.

The bell rang at three and Stan hurried home; he only had an hour to prepare himself to talk about his phobia with people he never met before. Before he knew it it was time to leave. Sharon drove twenty minutes to a small medical district in town and followed him inside a large one-level building that was host to a variety of different medical conferences and meetings. She took a form from the receptionist at the front of the building and filled out all the information about Stan, his background, medical history, any medication he was on, and of course his phobia. They were then given directions to where the meeting would take place. Sharon took out ten dollars for the meeting and gave it to her son. She then kissed his cheek.

"You'll do fine honey. Remember, this is the first step to get you the help you need!" Sharon expressed. "Now I can't go with you, parents aren't allowed in during meetings. But I'll be back here in an hour okay? Good luck!"

With a stomach full of jitters, Stan took the hallway to the right of the front desk and walked down until he located the room where the meeting took place. He found a man standing just outside the door who was collecting money from kids who walked in right after.

Stan cleared his throat. "Um, I'm here for the fear and phobia conference."

"Okay, do you have your parental form and ten dollars?" the man asked.

Stan held them up and the man took them and looked it over. He nodded and held out a hand. "Welcome in then Stanley, I'm Dr. Malhard and I'm going to be helping you out okay?"

Stan stepped into the room. It was big and bright with floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall and many different books, toys, a mix of fun seats in a large circle, a sink, art supplies, and artwork surrounding it. There were also charts and signs around the room that said things like: Soar Like a Star! and Turn Fears Into Smiles! There were around fifteen students inside ranging in ages from five to fifteen. Stan frowned when he didn't recognize anyone from his class. Was he really the only one he knew that had an immense fear of something? He walked around a little more and bumped into another boy.

"Oh, sorry," Stan muttered.

The blonde boy turned and looked at him. He had an almost-nervous look to his face but he smiled. "It's fine. I don't recognize you, you new?"

"Yeah."

The boy held out his hand and Stan shook it.

"My name is Jason. I'm here because I have a fear of elevators. What are you in for?"

Stan sighed. "My name's Stan. I um, have a phobia of going to the dentist."

"Ahh that's rough. Me, I freak out about elevators. Seeing all those movies about people being trapped or it crashing down, how can I not be? Not good as my dad runs a hotel so I'm over there all the time. But these meetings have really helped. I think I'll be cured soon enough."

At that moment Dr. Malhard stepped in. "Okay kids, why don't we all take a seat okay? It seems like we have three new people joining us today so why don't we listen as they introduce themselves?"

Stan took a seat next to this new boy while the other kids took up the other seats. Dr. Malhard looked at Stan as well as another boy and a girl.

"Why don't you three tells us your name, age, and why you're joining us today."

A boy slightly younger than Stan stood up. "My name is Mike. I'm seven and um, have a fear of my school principal."

Stan's brows rose, the kid must have been from a different town because Principal Victoria was not someone to fear. The girl stood next.

"My name is Amanda and I'm twelve. I have a phobia of germs."

Everyone looked at Stan now. Biting his lip he got to his feet. "I'm Stan and I'm nine. I have a phobia of going to the dentist."

Dr. Malhard nodded and he took a seat again. "Good, good, thanks everyone. Okay, as many of you know, I am here to help guide everyone through their fears and phobias so that hopefully, we can come out on top of them in the end. If you forgot or do not know, I myself once struggled with my own phobia. I had a terrible fear of heights. But with the right steps and experiment and scenarios, I was able to get over it. I soon found out how much I loved the rush of adrenaline in my veins when I was on a roller coaster or just looking out a window ten stories up. Hopefully each one of you can get to where I am today. Also, you will get guidance from your fellow classmates because studies show a child can overcome a fear easier if they have someone their age do so as well. It is also important we have a goal set out for ourselves. Do you three know what you would like to achieve once you finally learn the steps to overcome your fears?"

"I want to be friends with my principal 'cause no one else has a problem with her, but I still don't like her," Mike said.

"I want to not be so clean and neat and I don't want to freak out every time a person sneezes," Amanda answered.

"My ultimate goal is to have a dentist examine me without any struggle," Stan told the doctor.

"I promise you I will personally assist you three with anything you are having a problem with. I will understand your fears and your reasons behind them before we begin the healing process. And I think we can agree I do an all right job don't I?" Dr. Malhard smiled at the children.

"Yeah! I feel like I'm almost ready to finally ride an elevator in almost two years!" Jason beamed.

"Thank-you Jason. Now what I would like you to do Amanda, Mike, and Stan is to get a piece of paper- any you want, and make yourselves a big colorful sign! Write down your goal and hang it on the wall! This will be a reminder as to what you are striving for and will help motivate you during each meeting okay?"

While the class talked with the doctor, the three newbies went over to where the art supplies where and made a goal sign. Stan wrote down: I will have a dentist examine me without trouble, in bright markers on a red piece of construction paper and decorated it with little pom-poms and animal stickers before handing it up. He had his doubts he would ever reach his goal but for now all he could do was whatever Dr. Malhard, Kyle, and his mother told him to. Twenty minutes in Dr. Malhard pulled him aside and the two sat at one of the round tables in the room.

"Do you mind if we talk a bit about your phobia today Stan? Get to know what triggers fear in you? Things like that?"

"I guess. That's what I'm here for right?" Stan shrugged uncomfortably.

Dr. Malhard pulled out a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket and read from the form Sharon filled out.

"It says here you're afraid of going to the dentist. Could you explain to me in your own words what that means?"

"Well, I'm just afraid of going. I hate everything about it."

"Okay. Exactly what about the dentist triggers your fear? Is it the building? The waiting area? Tools? Smells? The dentist itself?"

"Pretty much ev-everything. I panic as soon as I enter the place. I can't stay in the waiting room longer than five minutes without acting up. I hate the too-clean smell. It's why I hate hospitals too. I also hate seeing people with those rubber gloves. I hate the feeling of those metal tools in my mouth and gloved f-fingers in my mouth." He swallowed. "I can't stand it, it makes me sick. Anyone with gloved hands makes me queasy. Doctors, nurses, having my blood drawn… gloved fingers touching my skin…anything that requires gloved hands…"

"Okay, that makes sense," Dr. Malhard nodded as he wrote this down. "Is there anything else you don't like about going to the dentist Stan?"

"I hate the sound of the drill and other tools. I also hate feeling 'exposed.' Like I'm a prisoner who has to stay put in this chair, open my mouth a certain way and for extended periods of time. A bright light in my face…" his stomach bubbled just talking of it. How could he really get rid of all of those triggers of fears?

Dr. Malhard continued to nod as he listened and wrote this down. "If I could pinpoint your biggest trigger to the dentist, it would be the rubber gloves. You say people touching you with them on causes fear no matter what it is they are doing."

Stan nodded. "It doesn't even have to be medical-related. My mom could be using them when she's cleaning something and just touches my arm and I shudder."

"Okay. When was the last time you went to the dentist Stan?"

Stan thought. "Last time I had work done? Six I think it was. Last time I stepped foot into one? Days ago before I threw a fit and had to be taken home."

The doctor looked serious as he looked at Stan's face. "Do you know what might have caused your fears? Did you have a traumatic experience at the dentist when you were younger?"

Stan drew in a breath. "Yeah. A lot has to do with the last place I ever had dental work."

"Do you want to tell me about that Stan?"

Stan began to look nervous. He bit his nail. "I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it right now."

"That's fine, I understand," the man reassured.

"I can tell you about the last time I went but I don't wanna talk about what I think might have triggered my fear in the first place."

"You tell me anything you want son," Dr. Malhard smiled.

Stan drew in a breath. "The last time I ever had work done at the dentist was when I was six. And it wasn't even work, just a regular exam. I… I panicked bad. Dr. Cartritch was not good with kids at all, or anyone really. But especially kids. He wasn't mean; he just didn't care or do much of anything to calm me down. There wasn't enough room for my mom to be with me in the exam room which I always hated. I was able to be in the chair just long enough for x-rays (which took a long time I remember since I was so scared), and for him to count my top row of teeth before I couldn't go on." He felt himself burn as he spoke about this. It had been a while before he shared any of these feelings with anyone other than his mother.

Dr. Malhard placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "And that's it? You had to be taken out?"

Stan nodded. "I- I threw-up on him. I was already crying before then anyway. My mom heard my cries and declared this wasn't working out and she took me home. That was the last time I was ever in the chair…"

Dr. Malhard frowned as he noticed tears in the boy's eyes. "Hey, don't feel guilty about what happened Stan; you were afraid. You did what any other kid would have; you have nothing to feel bad about. You were overwhelmed with emotions and fears so your body had to find a way to release those feelings. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"I know but I still hate that it happened. I mean sure everyone has a general fear or nerves whenever they go to the dentist but does anyone make it out to be something bigger than me? No."

For the remainder of the conference Stan talked a little bit more with Dr. Malhard before he went off to try and get to know the other kids and if he could find a 'buddy' with whom he could be paired with to help overcome their fear. Stan chose Jason for the simple fact they ran into each other before the meeting began and he really wasn't up to dealing with a kid who had a boat-load of problems like himself. Jason was more than happy to have a new buddy since most thought it useless to be help him since he was so close to being 'cured.' That hour Stan was in the building did go by rather quickly and before he knew it parents came by to pick up their kids. He saw his mom walk in with a smile. She hugged him.

"How was today honey?"

"Pretty okay."

"See ya Stan!" he heard Jason call as he walked out with his mother.

Stan waved back.

Sharon smiled. "Did you make a new friend today Stan?"

"I guess. We all have to be paired up with someone so we can have someone to help out and for them to help us out. His name is Jason."

"So what did you do the past hour?" Sharon asked.

"Introduced myself to everyone. Made a motivational sign for myself. Talked a bit about my fears with Dr. Malhard," Stan answered.

At that moment Dr. Malhard noticed Sharon and smiled and shook her hand. "Hello, I assume you must be Stan's mother? I'm Dr. Malhard."

Sharon smiled back. "I heard today went pretty okay."

"It did. I have defiantly had children in the past who were almost impossible to talk with. Your son seemed to open up right away. It's a great start in his process of being cured!"

"That's wonderful."

Dr. Malhard looked down at Stan. "Say son, why don't you go over by the books and find something to your liking, or draw a picture? I'd like to talk with your mom for five minutes okay?"

Stan looked up wearily.

"Don't worry, it's nothing bad. Promise," the man assured.

Sighing, Stan did as he was told. Meanwhile, Dr. Malhard took Sharon aside by the front door.

"I just want to hear it from you: it's very important I get a parent's view of their child's fear or phobia away from the child. I just want to know in your words, about your son's phobia?" he asked softly.

Sharon sighed. "I'm pretty sure he already told you- it's pretty bad. He can't even step foot into the waiting room without causing a scene. It's been that way since he was six, which was when he last had anything done."

Dr. Malhard nodded. "Right, that's what he told me. Tell me, do you know what might have caused it? He seemed reluctant to talk about one particular moment in his life that might have caused his fear, but as his mother I was wondering if you might remember something he was too young to remember that might have caused him to act this way?"

Sharon was not hesitant at all to spill the beans. "I do know of something. Something that had to have had a profound impact on his fear that I doubt he remembers."

Dr. Malhard listened.

Even if she knew it, she had difficulties finding the words. "I feel very guilty about it; it makes me feel like I failed in my role as a mother."

The man frowned but did not interrupt.

Sharon placed a strand of her short hair out of her eye before saying, "When he was younger- a toddler, I used to allow him to go to bed… with- with a bottle or sippy cup."

"Ahh, I see where you might be going," Dr. Malhard nodded knowingly.

"Yes," Sharon huffed. "Pretty much every doctor and dentist advices parents not to allow their babies and toddlers to walk around with a bottle all day, it can cause early problems and decay. But I didn't listen. Stanley… was always a fussy baby and one of the few ways I could ever get him to calm down was give him something to suck on or drink. If he was crying in the middle of the night I gave him a bottle of milk and he was fine minutes after. He never went anywhere without a bottle or sippy cup of milk or juice. His dentist at the time- the only one he's ever been to, Dr. Cartritch warned me what could happen if I continued to give into his cries. But I didn't listen. I just thought 'he doesn't know my son. He doesn't know how difficult he can be and how much he cries.' So- so I just allowed it to go on." Sharon sniffed as her eyes watered up.

"So what happened?" Dr. Malhard asked.

Sharon drew in a breath. "One day, just before Stan's second birthday, I noticed he was extra cranky. He didn't want to eat anything and was holding onto his left cheek. I took him to the dentist the next day and discovered he already had- had (_sniff_) a pretty deep cavity in one of his teeth!"

Dr. Malhard allowed Sharon to compose herself for a minute.

"I couldn't believe it- a cavity! How on earth can a child under two get a cavity? He said to me 'told you this would happen if he continued going to bed with milk to soothe him.' My husband and I had no choice; we had to have it filled. So poor little Stanley had to go under to get a tooth filled the day before his second birthday! It was a pretty terrifying experience for us."

Dr. Malhard unfolded his arms. "And you believe this is what caused his early fear of the dentist?"

Sharon dabbed at the corner of her eye. "It's not the only thing that happened. I was being…. An idiot again. Even- even after that incident I still allowed him to carry his cup of milk with him wherever he went! I guess milk can remain in a child's mouth after he falls asleep, causing the- the decay. It's called Baby Bottle Syndrome. When- when he was two, I had to take him in for the same exact reason. Once again my tiny son had to be put under to correct a problem that should never have happened. Not even all of his teeth were in yet! What was I thinking, allowing this to go on? Getting him off the constant milk and juice was one of the hardest things I ever had to do…" Sharon finished.

Dr. Malhard sighed. "I know how difficult it can be to break a child from a habit; it doesn't mean you're a bad parent. We all make mistakes. Heck, I myself feel like I'm a bad father at times when I can't buy something for my daughter. I know kids don't need everything but I still feel she deserves it."

Sharon smiled.

Dr. Malhard rubbed his chin. "You know what I'd like you do to for the time being? Help your son along in any way you can to break him from his phobia in a non-threatening manner. Anything you can come up with. For starters I think it is crucial he gets a good vibe from whatever dentistry you choose to take him to."

"I already plan on making another appointment with him at the new South Park Children's Dentistry," Sharon told him.

He nodded. "That's good, but don't force him to do anything. Take it in small steps. Just have him stay in the waiting room for a certain amount of time so he gets comfortable and used to the sights. I know they provide great amenities for children such as toys and video games so have him engage in those. Don't even make an appointment to get his teeth checked until you know he's ready. Have him meet the dentist in charge; a friendly meeting away from the chair so he can establish a bond and level of trust with him."

Sharon nodded. "Stan is big on trust."

"Great, so make sure you know he feels safe when he's in the presence of the dentist. Eventually this can lead to him feeling brave enough to be inside the exam room, sit in the chair and get to know the tools and environment there. In due time he is sure to feel comfortable and safe enough to meet his goal of having his teeth examined."

Sharon frowned. "You really think so?"

Dr. Malhard nodded. "Don't expect it to happen overnight. Just take it in steps like I said. I can give you some tips that might make it easier. I will help him fully understand his fears and get him to realize it's not as bad as he makes it out to be, but with extra help at home, he can overcome them sooner than he thought."

Sharon smiled gratefully. "Thank-you so much doctor, I will do all those things."

A minute later Sharon walked out the conference room with a small pamphlet of tips and such on fears related to the dentist and with Stan, drove off home. Tuesday came. Sharon had to walk with her son up the steps to the Cartritch house before telling him she'd pick him up in an hour and driving away.

"Good afternoon Stanley, how are you today?" Mrs. Cartritch asked as she led him inside.

Stan shrugged.

"Sorry about going crazy at you last week but you have to understand, I am an avid gardener and when I see my hard work ruined, I take it to heart."

"Sorry about it- again," Stan mumbled.

"Did you already have an after school snack?"

Stan nodded.

"Great, then I can get right to things. Let me show you around and point out what chores you are required to do."

They began walking to the kitchen.

"Is this for my own misery or am I getting paid?" Stan asked.

"You'll get $5 if you complete all I ask for you. $2 if it's a half-Joe job. In the kitchen you will be mopping the floor and cleaning the refrigerator when it needs cleaning. In the dining room you will vacuum the carpet, as well as any other room that may need cleaning that day. In the living room you will be dusting the shelves and spaces in-between," she began.

"Um, I have asthma. That might start up symptoms," Stan raised his hand.

She frowned. "Very well. Then you will be cleaning the windows and wipe away surfaces with cleaner. Now my husband's home office is a disaster," she stopped at a cramped and messy room. "I want you to help him organize it when he gets home."

"_What_?" Stan immediately turned into panic-mode.

"It won't be often but he does need help with it. When he has the extra time and isn't in the basement working, you will be helping him sort things and filing things."

"I- I'm not good at organizing. At all," Stan said, which was the truth. Would it save him one more task…?

"What on earth do you mean?"

"I can't do it, I can't. It hurts my head and I freak out. I really can't do it."

"Well what do you do at home? Have your mother clean your room?" she asked, alarmed.

"Sometimes," Stan admitted. "But she knows I have problems."

Mrs. Cartritch shook her head and muttered, "Problems indeed…" she led him outside. "You will help me when it comes to my plants. You will water and feed them and pull any weeds, understood?"

"I'm allergic to sunflowers," Stan pointed out to the large yellow flowers near the back.

Clearly Mrs. Cartritch was a little annoyed she would not be getting all the help she thought she would. She led him back inside and after a few more words said, "There is one room you will not be given tasks to. It is the basement. It is my husband's special work area and no one is allowed inside. Understood?"

"But doesn't he have an office?" Stan pointed out.

The older woman frowned. "No one is allowed inside, not even me. He goes there to ease stress now and again. I have printed up all your chores"- she handed him a sheet of paper. "Now then, I would like the floors vacuumed before anything. It's not good for my back."

By the time Mrs. Cartritch finished explaining things to Stan and he had vacuumed the first floor of the house, Sharon came by to pick him up. He walked out of the house with a crisp five dollar bill and told his mom to hurry and drive home.

"I did not like the feel in that place," he told her as they drove.

"Stanley, I know it's the house of Dr. Cartritch but I'm sure it's not that bad," Sharon expressed.

"It was, I just got a bad feeling in it. Since he lives there and we both know he's evil…"

Sharon sighed. "He wasn't evil Stanley; he just wasn't the best dentist."

Stan crossed his arms. "He was evil Mom."

Over that following week Stan had enough confidence to talk to Kyle about his fear of the dentist and go deeper into it. He also was able to hang with Cartman and Kenny and Butters as he always did without them becoming suspicious of anything. He even ran into Jason again at school and found out he was another fourth-grader in the room two doors down from Mr. Garrison's. They hung out at Stan's after school on Thursday (after Stan's chores with Mrs. Cartritch) and played video games all evening long (Sharon decided to invite the boy and his parents over for dinner that night). Cartman was once again pissed off that Stan was blowing him off after school that Friday and wouldn't tell him why.

"You're up to something Stan!" he accused him.

"No I'm not, I just don't want to go to the movies after school," Stan shrugged.

"You had a doctor's appointment last time, what's your excuse this time pussy?"

As usual, Stan and Kyle stole a questionable glance.

"My parents just want me home more often, no big deal."

During his meeting with Dr. Malhard that afternoon, he was given a rather odd instruction.

"I want you to use whatever art supplies you want Stan and draw a picture of the dentist," he told the nine-year-old.

"What? Why?"

"Drawing a picture of something we fear helps us understand just what it is about it that we find so frightening. We can get a lot of information just by how someone draws. The colors used, how big images on the paper are… it shows us what we think about when we see an image in our mind," Dr. Malhard explained.

Frowning, Stan decided to take his word for it and grabbed a sheet of white paper and a pack of crayons. This was silly, what was drawing his fear going to prove?

"Trust me Stan, he's right," Jason said, popping into a seat next to him. "You'll never guess just what your drawing might reveal."

Shrugging, Stan began to draw. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what the dentist was all about. Pain. Fear, isolation, vulnerability, and pain. Before he knew it, his hand was gliding on the paper and making his own dentist scenery. Meanwhile Jason read a picture book titled Frankie in the Sky. A half hour later Dr. Malhard walked over to the art corner to see how he was doing.

"Mind if you explain to me your drawing Stan?" he asked.

Stan shrugged. "Sure."

The doctor popped into a chair next to him.

"Um, this dude is the dentist, and obviously this thing next to him is the chair," Stan pointed out.

"Okay. I noticed right away the expression on the dentist's face. Would you care to tell me why you chose to make him look that way?" Dr. Malhard tapped at the man who looked almost mad with power.

"'Cause… 'cause he always has control over the patient. He's the one in charge. It's either his way or no way. He barks orders to his assistants and never says 'thanks'," Stan frowned.

"Okay. And why did you draw dollar signs around him?"

"All he cares about is money," Stan glared. "Working on people's teeth is just a job to him, like mopping floors at a gas station. He doesn't care about anything but getting that pay check. And that's what drives his power, he has a skill at fixing teeth and he knows there will always be someone out there who will pay him to fix theirs."

Dr. Malhard wrote this down. "Wow, that is very thought-out Stan. But that's good, you're on a roll. What about the chair?"

Stan stared down at it. "I dunno, I just drew what I remember. It's long and I hate it. It makes me feel trapped, like I can't do anything or get out without being forced back in."

"Okay, and can you explain this to me?" he pointed at a rectangle with odd shapes.

"That's where all the tools are. That's the drill"- Stan pointed it out. "I don't remember how the tools look but I remember the drill. I hate it. I hate how it sounds…" he shuddered.

"Why didn't you draw anyone sitting in the chair?"

"Well I wasn't going to draw myself that's for sure," Stan clarified. "I dunno, I just wanted to show what I thought about the dentist himself and the chair. That's the real problem with it." At this his eyes went wide.

Dr. Malhard smiled and jotted something on his clipboard. "I think we both just learned what exactly is the problem about the dentist in your mind. The doctor himself, the chair, and the tools. We're making steady progress son."

Even though Stan didn't think he was any braver stepping foot into a dentist office, he was feeling slightly better going over his specific fears and his feelings of each thing about it. The rest of the time was spent talking about the other aspects of the dental office and his opinions on the décor, the receptionist, how it felt when his name was called in, and the smell lingering in the air. Dr. Malhard was happy to report these things to Sharon when she picked him up. The quicker he was able to pinpoint the specifics, the sooner he'd be able to take the first steps at meeting his goal.

Two weeks into it. His parents were very happy he was going through with this conference as was Kyle. He hadn't yet done anything to help him but recommend the meetings but he promised not to tell another soul about what he was doing every Monday and Friday evening. Sheila couldn't help but give Stan glances every now-and-then, but Sharon whispered to her not to worry, he was getting help with his phobia, and to not make it into something that it wasn't. Cartman meanwhile did not know what was going on. He was a bit suspicious about what Stan was doing but couldn't weasel any information out of him.

By this time however Dr. Malhard had come up with an idea for Stan to get used to rubber gloves. He asked Sharon, who flossed her son's teeth each night, to start wearing gloves while doing it. That way it would come as no surprise when a dental hygienist did it to him whenever he was able to have his teeth looked at. This proved to be a time-consuming idea indeed. Stan could not allow his mother to floss his teeth with those horrid, horrid rubber gloves. He squirmed and cried as she tried doing it each night. By night five she was finally able to go his whole mouth done although it took almost a half hour. But it had to be done if he was ever to get over his trigger of rubber gloved-fingers in his mouth.

The second week of chores with Mrs. Cartritch was just as bad as the first. The second Thursday he was washing windows for what felt like all day long. These days made one hour seem like forever. As he was washing the window near the basement door, he heard a yip. He lowered his arm. It sounded like it came from the basement.

"Mrs. Cartritch?" he called.

"Yes Stanley?" she came down the stairs.

"Um, do you have a dog?"

"What? Don't be silly dear, animals make too much mess, I would never have one," she passed off.

"Oh. It's just that I thought I heard a bark or something just now."

"Must be a neighbor's."

"It sounded like it came from in there"- Stan pointed to the basement.

Mrs. Cartritch frowned. "Well I don't know what to tell you. We don't have any dogs Stanley. I don't know what could have caused the noise, maybe it was your imagination."

Stan shrugged and went back to work. Not until he heard it again.

"Mrs. Cartritch! Mrs. Cartritch! I just heard it again!" he rushed to her.

Mrs. Cartritch hurried forward. "I don't hear anything son."

"But I just heard it, from the basement! Maybe a dog wandered in there or something and needs help."

She smiled. "I don't have the key to the basement Stanley, Donnie does," she said, referring to her husband.

"Then get it from him when he comes home. Please? Promise me you'll get it from him and see if there aren't any trapped animals down there."

The boy looked and sounded so sincere. She had to agree. "I'll see what I can do. Oh look, it's almost five o'clock; your mother will be here soon. Would you like some sugar-free cookies?"

Stan declined as politely as he could.

The Monday after the second week of meetings and it was time for Stan to face his real first step at getting over this silly fear. Sharon had spoken with the people who worked at the South Park Children's Dentistry and informed them about her son's fears. They assured her they would do everything in their part to make him comfortable and would offer any sort of reassurance, no matter how long it took. At 10:15 that morning Stan was taken out of school by Sharon and together they drove to the jungle-themed building. The car ride there Stan was relatively calm because his mom had assured him beforehand this was not going to be an exam in any shape or form. The walk up to the glass door was when Stan began to panic.

"Remember sweetie, five minutes, that's it!" Sharon reminded him.

He looked up, took her hand tightly, and they stepped inside. He was rather stiff as he walked in, his eyes shifted everywhere. Sharon had slight difficulty having him let go of her grip. She went on her knee and had him face her.

"Try to take in the sights okay? Get used to everything. Walk around. Play with something. I promise you you will not be called in by anyone okay?"

"How do you-?"

"Because I already talked with the people here. They know you're just here to get comfortable enough to stay in the waiting room. What's behind that door over there isn't important. Pretend it doesn't even exist!" Sharon said lightly as she pointed to the closed door in front of them that obviously led to the exam rooms. She got up and walked to where some comfortable seats were and sat down. Stan stood still, not knowing if he wanted to run to her, interact with the place, or just bolt. He bit his lip and looked his mother's way.

"Mom…" Stan trailed.

"Just do something: sit, play, talk, for five minutes. Five minutes and we can leave."

"I don't know…"

"I think you can honey. Pretend it's the pediatrician's office. You don't like going there but can amuse yourself before you're called in."

Stan's eyes went wide. "You said"-

"You won't be called in today," Sharon cut across him. "I already told you that Stan. But in the future… you can sit and play video games or something. It isn't very different. In fact, this place has more to entertain yourself with than at Dr. Davies' office."

She had a point. Stan stood in the same spot for close to three minutes, body frigid, eyes traveling back to the door to freedom all the while. But no, he could do this. He had to. He spent time last night going over it with his parents, what was so bad about having fun before being looked at by a doctor? Nothing. That's why his mom gave him his DS to play with or her ipod at the doctor's. It was one of the only times he was allowed to play with her phone. The whole while no one else came into the dentist office and every time he looked at the blonde receptionist she smiled widely back. Five minutes total had passed.

"Why don't you do something Stanley?" the receptionist offered.

"Huh?"

"Go play with something. Draw a picture. Go on," she egged him on slightly.

He didn't know how much time had passed but if he was able to stay here for as long as he had been without melting down, might as well do it until he reached his breaking point. He finally moved from his spot in the carpet and turned to see what kind of video game system was hooked up anyway. It was the Xbox. He picked up the control and went to see what games were already programmed inside. He smiled when he found a personal favorite- MarioKart. He was racing other characters on crazy raceways before he knew it. The whole time neither his mother nor the receptionist every spoke a word. He finally looked up from the screen after he claimed first place in the game to his mother. She was standing up and walked his direction.

"Well that was fun wasn't it?" she said.

"Yeah, I got in first place! I haven't done so in a while. I gotta try it again on my DS back home and unlock a new bonus on the game," Stan explained.

Sharon waved a few fingers at the receptionist before turning back to her son. "Well let's take you back to school, it's almost lunch time."

Stan looked around. "How long was I in here?"

Sharon shrugged. "I'd say almost twenty minutes. Good job sweetie!"

Stan wasted no time telling Kyle what he had done as soon as Cartman was out of earshot back at school. His friend patted him on the back saying he knew he could do it. He took out a piece of paper and checked off: _be able to stay inside waiting room without flipping out_. There were still other things Stan had to accomplish but for now, he was proud of himself. As was Dr. Malhard and Jason when he told them of his progress during that day's meeting. He hoped he could keep the momentum going.

Stan was given a little surprise after he came home from the Cartritch house the next day with his dad. He walked in from the front door and saw Kyle and Jason there with his mom at the dining room table. Randy said something about going to the bar and left. Stan raised an eyebrow.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked.

"Dude, we thought of the best thing for you!" Kyle told him, getting up.

"What?"

"Your friends came up with a role-playing sort of thing that might help you next time I take you to Dr. Steel's office," Sharon told her son.

"What?" Stan said again.

"Look dude, we haven't really done a whole lot for your phobia at home so I think it's time we try something out," Kyle explained.

"Meetings at the Fear and Phobia Conference can only do so much," Jason added. "You have to try things at home. Role-playing is a great way to help. I've been doing all sorts of scenarios with my family for a month now. It's really helped."

Stan sighed. "Okay fine, let's get this over with."

Kyle began explaining, "Great. We're going to try and go through a whole dental exam experience today okay Stan? Your mom is going to pretend to take you, you wait until you're called in, then we'll go from there okay?"

Feeling this was a waste of time, but not wanting to say so to his friends, Stan agreed. Before he knew it Kyle and Jason went upstairs. Stan raised a brow before Sharon walked to his side.

"Come on sweetie, we're going to the dentist today."

"Aww Mom," Stan moaned.

She held out her hand and he took it and led him upstairs and into his room where he gasped- it looked completely unrecognizable. For one thing his bed was nice and neat. But the walls held up large drawing of jungle animals, his Xbox was out in the open with the TV on, ready to be used, and most of his toys and stuffed animals were out and placed at various places among the floor.

"What the fuck-?"

"The closer it looks to the real thing the better," Sharon whispered and took a seat on his bed and pulled out a magazine and began to flip through it.

"What am I supposed to do?" Stan asked her.

"Anything you want before you're called in," she said.

He had to hand it to Kyle; he really went all out and made his room an almost exact replica of the children's dentistry. Shrugging, Stan took out his favorite remote-control car and began zooming it around the carpet, almost amused as to what his friends had in store next. Ten minutes passed and the door opened, revealing Jason dressed in child-scrubs. He held out a clipboard.

"Stanley?"

Stan rolled his eyes. "I see where this is going. Thanks guys but this is getting silly…"

"Stanley, the nurse called you in, let's go," Sharon got to her feet.

"Mom, really"-

Sharon just nudged him along and out the room. They followed Jason to the guest room where Stan's eyes went wide again. A tray of several different objects from around the house sat by the old reclining chair by the guest bed.

"Take a seat young man," Jason said. "The doctor will be here shortly."

Stan did, again, for the amusement of his friends, although with each new thing he saw, the more realistic this felt. A minute later Kyle came in also dressed in scrubs. He smiled.

"You're already in the chair- good Stan. Anyway, I'm Dr. Steels, and I'm going to be examining your teeth today okay?"

"Okay, _doctor_," Stan smirked. This was going to be like any old time he played doctor with his friends.

"First we start with x-rays. Nurse Julie will help you with that."

Stan raised a brow as Jason came forward and placed a heavy raincoat on him that was 'the protection against the radiation from the x-rays'. But this was when Stan began to grow worried. He was asked to bite down on make-shift pieces of plastic for the images- cardboard covered in plastic wrap, but couldn't do it. As soon as Jason managed to get one in for him to bite down on, he began to fidget so they skipped the rest of the x-ray role-play and proceeded onward. Kyle came back with drawings of teeth on paper.

"Hm… everything looks okay to me. Why don't I look at your teeth and we'll clean them then send you home?" Kyle asked Stan.

"Please hurry," Stan said softly.

Things did not go any smoother. Stan hated that they clipped a napkin on his shirt and he could not open his mouth wide enough for Kyle to look through and even though the tools they were using were fake, it freaked him out, and the fact that his friends were wearing latex gloves made matters worse. Kyle had Sharon's iphone and had downloaded a sound of a dentist drill and pretended to be drilling in Stan's tooth. That's when he leapt from the chair and stood by the door shaking.

"I'm done playing now guys, really," he rasped.

"But Stan, if we just redo the whole x-ray thing I'm sure you will"-

"Really Kyle, I'm done."

Kyle gave up. "Okay. Well, how was it?" he took off his rubber gloves, as did Jason.

"Okay at first but more realistic as it went on. I have a lot I still need to get used to," Stan admitted.

Thursday afternoon. Stan was busy wiping the surface of the stairs, humming a song to himself to pass the time. He couldn't believe it, it had already been three weeks and today would be his last day of doing chores for Mrs. Cartritch. If all went well in twenty minutes, he would have made $30 for the six days he worked for her which wasn't bad at all. Not to mention he had not seen or heard Dr. Cartritch at all those six days so he wasn't forced into organizing his office with him. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he heard scratching below. Frowning, he went down the last few steps and heard it again. It was coming from the basement! He looked left and right, making sure Mrs. Cartritch was still outside in her garden before pressing his ear on the door. The scratching was defiantly coming from the other side of the piece of wood. He tapped back.

"Hello? Anything in there?"

There was no mistake this time- he heard a bark. His heart leapt to his throat. He wanted to get Mrs. Cartritch but knew that wouldn't do any good. She told him that Tuesday she had not been able to obtain the key to the basement and actually seemed fearful while saying it. He tapped again and heard another couple of barks. There was a dog in there! But why was it in a locked basement?

"Hello? Hey boy, you okay in there?" Stan peaked his eye through a slit in the old wood. He could just make out a dog tail wagging but that was it. He tried wiggling the doorknob but it didn't budge. He could hear the dog whining now. Stan's protective nature got the best of him and he feared the dog was in trouble since it obviously wanted to get out. Stan went to the door again and said, "Hey boy. I wish I could get you out of there. You don't sound very happy to me." A yip. But this wasn't it, at that moment he heard what sounded like squawking that could only belong to a bird. "What in the…?" his heart constricted. "I wish I could get you guys out of there, I don't care what the reason, animals shouldn't be kept inside a basement."

At that moment he heard the front door open and his stomach flipped- Dr. Cartritch had come home. He seemed surprised to see the boy standing at his basement door. He smiled at him.

"Hey there son, I'm afraid I don't know you. What are you doing here?"

Stan could not find his voice.

"A-ha!" he snapped his fingers. "You're that young boy Gerdie said was helping us around the house the past few weeks aren't you?"

Still no response.

Dr. Cartritch smiled. "Hey now, you don't have to be afraid of me, I'm just your average Joe. What's your name?"

Stan gulped, petrified in fear.

Dr. Cartritch slapped his hands together in delight and laughed. "Why if it isn't little Stanley Marsh! I recognize that poofball hat miles away!" he patted the boy on the head which caused him to stiffen more so. "Wow, I haven't seen you in over two years now Stan. How have you been?"

Stan shook his head.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

Stan gulped and moved slightly away from the man. The dentist frowned. "What's the matter son? You don't remember me? I'm sure you do, I was your dentist since before you were two! Of course I haven't seen you in a while. What's the matter, your mom find a better one than me?" at this he chuckled.

"P-please don't touch me," Stan finally got out.

"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you son"- he was about to kneel by him but Stan was too quick.

"Yes! Yes you will, just like all the other times!" Stan screamed and ran to the door and instantly broke down.

"Donnie, what did you do?" Gerdie came forward, surprised at seeing the state the boy was in.

Stan collected his last five bucks before Sharon arrived to take him home. She was shocked at how nervous he seemed to be until he told her Dr. Cartritch had come home early that day and he had to see him after not doing so in years. Sadly this caused a setback in trying to get Stan out of his dental phobia. That Friday after school Sharon took Stan to the Children's Dentistry again for another test in the waiting room. This time a nurse was going to come out the door and read off his name from a clipboard although he wouldn't be taken in for an examination. Stan could hardly last ten minutes before he had to be taken home. The image of Dr. Cartritch was still fresh in his mind and he couldn't get rid of it. But that wasn't the only thing still lingering in his head, the sounds of the dog and bird in the basement made him uneasy. He really didn't want to jump to conclusions or have more reasons to hate Dr. Cartritch but how could he just ignore the sounds of their pining behind a locked door? No animal at all needed to stay in a basement. If you have an animal they should be able to be where the center of their humans are. It didn't feel right. He wanted to go back and try to learn more but how? That's when he thought of it. It made his skin crawl but it was the only way…

"Dad, I think I want to go back and do more chores for Mrs. Cartritch," Stan told his father casually that Sunday.

Randy looked up from the Sunday paper. "I knew taking you there would do you some good. I'll call her and tell her you'll be coming by Tuesday after school."

"Thanks," Stan smiled, feeling uneasy.

Unfortunately for Stan, he was not able to hear anything from the basement when he came over Tuesday. He just had to keep working and doing extra chores until he was satisfied with something. Wednesday was a big day for him however- he was going to have a meeting with his mom with his new dentist Dr. Steels in his office. Stan was able to go with his mother behind 'the door' where the man's office was. His grip did tighten significantly when he saw to the right of the office one of 'the chairs'. Thankfully Sharon hurried him inside the office to see the dentist.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Marsh, and to you Stan," Dr. Steels greeted as they shook hands and took a seat across his desk. Dr. Steels was a nice-enough looking blond man, maybe in his late 30s, early 40s. With introductions out of the way the man wanted to address what Stan's fears were.

"I- I'm afraid of everything almost," Stan said softly. "I- not to sound rude but I have a big thing on trust."

Dr. Steels smiled. "Hey, I don't want you to worry at all Stan, I promise you that I will inform you about anything, anything at all you want to know about. Whether it be the next tool I'm going to use or just more information about Ubaldo Jimenez," he smirked.

Stan's head lifted. "You- you like baseball?"

"Love it. Love all sports pretty much. Why, do you?"

"Yeah, yeah I love them too," Stan said shyly.

"What is your favorite team?" Dr. Steels asked eagerly.

"The Denver Broncos. I also really love the Rockies too. My favorite sports are football and baseball…"

"I was catcher on my baseball team throughout high school," Dr. Steels told him.

"Really?" Stan lit up.

"What positions do you play?"

"I'm a pretty good quarter-back and pitcher. I've been learning some new grips on my baseball over summer," Stan said, warming up slightly.

Sharon smiled as she watched her son open up to the dentist. The two talked about nothing teeth-related at all for ten more minutes before Dr. Steels brought up what exactly Stan was afraid of. He told him rubber gloves and the tools were the scariest points, although he hated having a bright light in his face too and leaning back in a chair. Dr. Steels asked Sharon what was being done to get him used to these things.

"He's been at these meetings for children with fears and phobias the past month and I really think they're helping, aren't they Stanley?" Sharon asked her son.

Stan nodded. "I'm realizing what it is I'm afraid of and they aren't nearly as scary once I understand it."

"We've been doing some things at home too. Scenarios, reading books, watching videos. I've also been flossing his teeth with latex gloves which is getting easier," Sharon continued.

Dr. Steels nodded and rubbed his chin. "You know what I'd like the next thing for Stan to do? I'd like to take him into one of the exam rooms, the sooner he is used to everything the better."

Stan froze.

"Don't worry son, nothing's going to happen," the man reassured. "Maybe we can have you just feel the chair, get used to it again. Sit in it for five minutes- that's it. Then I or a hygienist could show you the tools so you'll find out they aren't nearly as scary as you might have remembered them."

Stan looked at his feet. "Maybe."

"That will be great, whenever he feels ready to make that step," Sharon nodded.

"Stan, do you know if there's any reason why you have your fear of the dentist?" Dr. Steels asked carefully.

Stan shrugged, still looking down. "My old dentist. I didn't like him."

That was enough for the man. They talked some more before he showed them out, saying whenever Stan was ready to make another step, he'd be there to help him. The good thing about the meeting- Stan left with a smile on his face stating Dr. Steels was really cool and he loved that he was into sports like him.

"He said we can play catch sometime if we want, that would be cool wouldn't it Mom?" he looked up at his mother.

She smiled. "I think that would be a great idea honey."

Thursday afternoon had Stan at the Cartritch home yet again. Dr. Cartritch was at his practice while Stan was left with his wife to tend to the house. Sharon would be picking him up later than normal that day so Stan worked an extra half hour for a dollar's more pay. After forty minutes Mrs. Cartritch had Stan break for a snack of dried mango and water. It was a boring, unflavorful snack but Stan knew it was best to keep it to himself. As they sat in the living room with the fruit, they both jumped when they heard the sound of a large bark that sounded as if it came from the house.

"What was that?" Stan asked.

"What- what was what?"

"That noise- sounded like a bark."

"I don't know what you're talking about Stan," Mrs. Cartritch said quickly before turning to her magazine.

Stan opened his mouth slightly at her as if she were insane. "What do you mean? You had to have heard it!"

"I didn't hear anything."

"Yeah you did, I saw you jump!"

Mrs. Cartritch frowned. "It doesn't matter, it was nothing."

"I think it came from the basement," Stan said matter-of-factly, picking at his mango.

"_What_?"

"I heard a dog barking there before, and also a bird. I kinda think there's more going on there too."

"What?" she snapped again.

"I really think your husband is keeping a dog and bird captive or something in the basement. That's animal cruelty."

There was a pause.

"Mrs. Cartritch, why is the door locked?"

"I told you before Stanley, Donnie doesn't want anyone to go down there, it's his own personal space. We all have one."

"Yeah but why have the basement if he has this office by the kitchen? Sure it's messy but it's his space too. The basement is meant to be enjoyed for everyone," Stan explained.

"Finish your mango son," the woman nodded.

"I'm done." He pushed it aside. "Mrs. Cartritch, why doesn't he give you a key at least? It's your house too."

Mrs. Cartritch stood suddenly, looking almost famished. "I think I'll go upstairs and shower, working in the garden did not agree with me today. I'll be done by the time your mother picks you up."

Stan watched her leave the room and heard her hurry up the stairs and out of sight. He waited ten minutes before he hurried over to the basement door and knocked on it. Barking and this time more than one dog. Scratching at the door too. It almost sounded like a pet store or something behind the door. No way could Mrs. Cartritch turn a deaf ear at this. She knew something was going on. Stan gritted his teeth in frustration; he had to find out what was going on. But how? Anything he did would result in questioning and the trust between him and the Cartritches broken (not like he cared about Dr. Cartrtich's trust, that was broken years ago). Only at that moment did he realize an odd smell coming from the cracks too. It was all too dark to tell what was going on. He jumped when he heard the phone ring. He went over to answer it like he usually did if Mrs. Cartritch couldn't.

"Hello? Cartritch house."

No one answered for a few seconds. "Who is this?"

"This is their um, personal helper," Stan said.

Another pause. "Where is Donnie Cartritch?"

"Work," Stan said shortly.

Silence. "Can I trust you kid?"

"Uh, yeah, you can."

The man on the other end finally spoke at a normal pace. In a gruff voice he said, "Take this note: tell Donnie that case #2445H, Tellahinianum Vextrol is ready for pick up. Got that?"

Stan frowned as he wrote this down on paper. "Um, yeah."

"Tell no one else, just him. Or else."

"Okay, I promise he'll know," Stan said, a little distracted by the barking from the basement. There was a click on the other line so he hung up the phone.

Stan barely had any time to think about the message he received when the door knocked and Stan opened it to see his dad standing there.

"Dad! Um, I thought Mom was picking me up," Stan told him.

"Well your mother really couldn't miss any time from work so I said I'd drop you off home instead."

"Am I staying by myself or what?"

"Yeah right, you know we don't like you staying home alone for longer than an hour. Your sister will look after you until Mom and I come home from work."

"Aw-awww!" Stan moaned; he wouldn't be able to do anything with her bossing him around. He then looked at the note he had written minutes ago. He wanted to leave it for Mrs. Cartritch to see but for some reason thought it was best he didn't. He already knew animals were in danger, hidden in the house, and he felt this odd call had something to do with it. If Dr. Cartritch didn't receive the message then that could only be a good thing. Instead he left a quick note telling the older woman he was picked up early and left the house.

Friday afternoon. Stan wasn't doing a whole lot in therapy that day. He was a little upset that Jason had been released from the program the previous Tuesday, free to finally face his fear of elevators head on. He had excitedly told Stan how he was able to go on them ten times in a row when he got to his dad's hotel. Stan still felt as if he had to do ten more things though before he could tell an equally successful story about how he was able to lie down in the dentist chair, mouth wide open, and Dr. Steels and his assistant poked and prodded all around it. After he would be dancing out the office with a new toothbrush and smile on his face and chirping birds and bunnies would be following after. Stan sighed as he tried to read a picture book called Timmy's Visit to the Dentist. Like something like _that_ would ever happen. He knew his exact fears and triggers. He was getting more used to rubber gloves thanks to his mom, and talking about his phobia was helping. But the actual chair-tools-examination part still had to be taken care of. Stan was growing impatient; he wanted to get over his fear more than ever. He didn't know if it had to do with finally meeting Dr. Cartritch after so long and the instant fear he gave him, or the calmness and trust he relieved from Dr. Steels. Whatever it was, he wanted to be done and over with it soon.

Stan spotted Dr. Malhard getting up after talking with one of the older girls there who was afraid of flying. He thankfully was finished with her. Stan hurried over to him.

"Dr. Malhard! Dr. Malhard!" Stan called.

"Yes Stan?" he looked down.

"Um… I was wondering if you could try to help me a bit more with my phobia today."

He laughed. "That's my whole reason for being here Stan! Why, what did you have in mind?"

Stan shrugged. "I dunno. I was just reading Timmy's Visit to the Dentist and remembered there is one thing we haven't really talked about and I haven't really done any role-playing with yet."

"Of course, tell me what it is."

Stan rubbed his neck. "Um, the- the light. The light they shine on your face. That scares me."

Dr. Malhard took up a seat where Stan had just been sitting. "You did tell me you don't like the feeling of being exposed or observed, and that light brings out those feelings."

Stan nodded. "I dunno how to get rid of it though. I mean, get used to it."

Dr. Malhard wore his usual thinking face. "Does the actual light bother you, or is it something more? Are you bothered when your doctor shines a light in your mouth to examine your throat at the doctor's office, or looks into your eyes and ears?"

Stan rubbed his arm. "It kinda bothers me but not much. To look in my throat though… that makes me really uncomfortable. I can never keep my mouth open long enough for him to look into it."

"So it's more of the fact that you don't like your mouth being exposed?"

Stan nodded.

The man rubbed his chin. "I could suggest your mother and friends helping you by doing what the doctor does- shining a light in your mouth. Like sitting in the dental office, it only needs to be for a few seconds, and then gradually increase the time in which you allow your mouth to be open."

Dr. Cartritch's mean ugly old face flashed in his mind suddenly. He shuddered. He almost felt as if he were trapped in a room with him and only him. He was coming at him with scary tools in his hands saying, '_You're next Stan_!'

"No!" Stan suddenly cried.

"Stan, are you okay?" Dr. Malhard placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Stan gripped his hat and moaned. "No, I'm not."

"Tell me what's bothering you, when you're ready."

Stan drew in deep breathes the next few minutes. He suddenly felt a source of safety and bravado inside him. He looked up.

"I- I think I'm ready to tell you about my worst memory now."

"Excuse me?" Dr. Malhard looked surprised.

Stan nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I feel it's time."

"You really think you're ready?"

"Yeah. I just wanna get over this fear already."

Dr. Malhard took out his clipboard and had a pen ready, waiting until Stan began to speak.

"I- I was five when it happened," Stan began. "It was summer, kindergarten had just ended. It was a fun time; we did a lot of fun things in Mrs. Burgman's class. The only thing that let me down was how I was one of the only kids in class who didn't loose a tooth during kindergarten. Everyone else did, even my best friend Kyle. I guess it was because I was one of the youngest in class. While everyone was celebrating turning six in kindergarten, I was celebrating turning five. It was something that always bothered me, and still does kinda."

Dr. Malhard nodded as he wrote.

"My mom told me kids loose their first tooth at five or six, but most do around six. Anyway, this bugged me 'cause one of my friends Cartman would tease me for it. 'Hey, did the baby loose his first tooth yet?' and shit like that."

The man seemed slightly shocked the boy had cursed but didn't interrupt.

"Anyway," Stan shook his head. "It was summer, and it was one of the few warm days in South Park. Sun was out and everything. I decided I wanted to show off my bike skills to my friends. If there is anything I can do better than them it's ride a bike. I was actually one of the first kids who could ride a two-wheeler in class! So Cartman took out this wooden box thing with a slanted side on it and dared me to jump it like we saw the pros do on TV. Me, thinking I was already the best biker out there went for it. I peddled and peddled and the front tire hit the make-shift ramp and my bike buckled and I went flying off it and landed on my face. A minute later we all realized my face was bleeding so Kyle ran in to get my mom."

Stan had gone very quiet at this point. Dr. Malhard knew not to interrupt his patients or pose questions on them and make them feel pressured into talking. Stan drew in a shaky breath.

"Whenever you're ready Stan," Dr. Malhard said quietly, patting his arm.

Stan nodded before continuing. "My mom examined my face and saw that- that one of my teeth was loose. At first I was excited- finally I had a loose tooth! But that's when I noticed she wasn't smiling. I knew it was more serious. She- she-she took me to Dr. Cartritch's office." Tears stung Stan's eyes. Dr. Malhard rubbed his arm to remind him he was there. "He- he looked at me. The usual way too. No warm greeting. Nothing to make me feel welcomed. Just telling me to sit on the hard blue chair with my mom as I looked around the blank white walls." He sniffed. "The- the tooth wasn't very loose, it moved slightly but not enough to do something less-less"- a tear rolled down his cheek.

"If you don't want to say it, that's fine Stan," Dr. Malhard said, but he did anyway.

"-traumatic." Stan rubbed his nose. "He- he said that it had to be removed today though, in case anything happened. I could see it written all over my mom's face; she had no idea I would have to have a tooth pulled today! And at age five! My first real traumatic moment happened when I was only five!"

Dr. Malhard now knew Stan had no memory of having two teeth filled when he was at around two like Sharon explained. But no doubt it had something to do with it. He handed a tissue over to Stan who blew his nose.

"So- so before I knew it I had to say good-bye to my mom. It was really hard, I wanted her to be with me but they said the room was 'too small' and her being there would just be a- a distraction. Dr. Ca-Cartritch had to pull me off her practically." Stan looked down into his folded hands in his lap. "Then went the long process of trying to calm me down so he could p-pull the tooth. The nurse had to hold me down while he- he"- the words got choked up in his throat.

"Don't worry son, you don't have to say it if you don't want to," Dr. Malhard reminded him.

"No, I have to. Only way I'll ever truly face this." Stan drew in a labored breath. "He- he in-injected me. Said it was to-to numb the area. I'll never forget it. The sharp sting of the shot going into my gum…" Stan gripped his hat again in frustration.

Dr. Malhard rubbed his arm still. "It's okay Stan, you're doing great so far, you're doing great."

"I hate needles so much. And that was one of the worst times one ever poked me. It hurt. A lot. I was crying but he told me I'd- I'd better stop or I'd regret it." Stan flinched suddenly without real cause. "My older sister tells me stuff like that all the time so I was afraid he was going to follow through like she usually does. So I just had to lie back and have him do his work. He- he- the twisting… the pulling… to get the tooth out…" Stan's face had gone visibly pale by now and he looked woozy.

"Did he do anything else or just give you the injection?" Dr. Malhard had to ask.

Stan shook his head. "It was just that. The shot then he went to pull it."

Dr. Malhard rubbed his head looking winded. "That's horrible. Stan, there's more to it than just a simple solution from an injection. And for a child especially… there are more things you have to do if you need to pull a tooth."

Stan nodded. "I was thinking that too. But not at the moment. He just pulled and pulled until suddenly- it came out." At that moment Stan leaned over and puked on the floor, causing any surrounding children to gasp in alarm. Dr. Malhard hurriedly took him to the bathroom to clean himself off and went to mop up the floor, all the while telling the children to calm down. Stan sat back down minutes later shaking slightly.

"Stan…" Dr. Malhard's mouth was open.

"I throw up all the time, doesn't matter," Stan shrugged. "I was just reliving the pulling. It was so painful and bloody. I can still remember the sick, coppery taste in my mouth from the blood, and how long it took until- until- it stopped. I don't think the nurse knew what to do. Must have been on his side because she didn't seem too concerned. But he sent Mom back in, telling her something about watching what I eat and make sure I keep biting down on a towel or something to stop the bleeding before we went back home." The boy sighed as if defeated. A great weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

Dr. Malhard waited a minute before asking, "Is that everything that happened Stan?"

Stan nodded not looking at him. Tears were in his eyes. "I-I know it's stupid but that's the main cause of it."

"It's not stupid at all son, not at all."

Stan looked up, eyes filled with worry, confusion, and hope. A tear rolled down.

"There are countless things out there that stem from our fears and phobias. Not one person's makes more or less sense than another's. You went through a horrible experience when you were only five, of course it would cause permanent staying power in your mind."

"I remember every detail of it. It's one of my first full-scale memories when I was little. And because of it I've always been a little nervous whenever I lose a baby tooth," Stan said softly.

Dr. Malhard rubbed his eyes. "I only pray this man is still not putting other kids through this."

Stan wanted to say, _kids maybe, animals, defiantly_, but knew this wasn't the place.

"How does it feel to finally get this out in the open Stan?" the man asked.

Stan thought a moment. "Pretty good. Really good actually. I'm telling you, I'm fed up with my phobia, I want to meet my goal now more than ever!"

Dr. Malhard beamed. "That's great to here son, it really is. I'd like to talk with your mom when she picks you up and see where we can go from here."

Stan was more than willing. So once again Sharon called up the South Park Children's Dentistry and was able to get Stan in for another step in the process of 'examination day' as he was now calling it. Dr. Steels thought it best to have him come in around five, when the office closed, that way Stan could have all the time he wanted to get used to the tools and maybe even be able to sit in the chair. Stan gripped his mother's hand as one of the pretty hygienists took them down into one of the exam rooms. Dr. Steels was there and welcomed Stan with a warm smile and hand-shake.

"How are you doing today Stan?"

"Okay I guess."

"Did you see the Rockies game over the weekend?"

"Oh yeah, man, I thought Tulowitzki was going to drop the ball that one time! But the way he made that catch- amazing!" Stan beamed.

"And that rookie was able to knock in a nice double! Finally putting us on top of the game all night."

"I know. I always knew he had it in him."

The two talked about baseball for almost ten minutes before Dr. Steels thought it best to get down to business. Before he wanted Stan to become familiar with the various tools he wanted him to be comfortable enough to try out the chair. At the very mention of sitting in the chair, Stan's body grew very stiff.

"I don't think I can do it," he immediately said.

"I don't want you to give up yet Stan, I really think you can do it," Dr. Steels told him.

Stan shook his head. That's when the dentist decided it was best to take this in baby steps. The first thing he wanted Stan to do was just touch the purple chair sitting in the middle of the floor. He couldn't even do that. Sharon badly wanted to force his hand onto it but knew it would only make things worse. Five minutes later and both mother and dentist were trying to coax the boy to just touch the chair. Stan was almost in tears at this point.

"I can't do it! I can't do it!"

"Yes you can honey, you don't need to do anything else but put your hand on the chair. We told you already you don't have to sit in it or anything. You can touch the chair," Sharon was explaining.

Stan sniffed and wiped his nose. He felt so embarrassed he couldn't even touch it. He knew nothing bad was going to happen and he believed his mom and Dr. Steels that the chair wouldn't suddenly restrain him and he'd be examined. All he had to do was touch it. He slowly walked to the chair and held out his hand gingerly over it. With another little nudge, he finally placed his palm on the smooth, cool seat. His mother and dentist made celebratory noises.

"I told you you could do it!" Sharon hugged him.

Stan grinned. It wasn't so bad. But much more progress had to be made. While Dr. Steels swore he would not work on Stan at all, he still wanted him to be as familiar to everything as possible. And that unfortunately did include sitting in the chair. He complained, stating he could just see the tools standing but Dr. Steels told him by the time his 'examination day' came he would not be anymore comfortable in the chair as he was now. At this point Stan had broken down, refusing to sit in the chair for any length of time. It didn't help when Sharon herself sat in the chair to prove to him it wasn't frightening, but Stan just pointed out she didn't have this fear he did. Thirty minutes had past since the Marshes came to the dentistry. Dr. Steels told Stan he could come back and try again another day but Stan was determined to make some sort of break-through. Today was supposed to be about getting used to the tools and chair. He had to do it. After twenty minutes of kicking and screaming, Stan finally calmed himself down enough to have his mom slowly help him on the seat. He still cried softly and tears still fell, and he looked around anxiously, but at least he was on. And with a little more talking from the adults, Stan finally calmed himself down enough to notice nothing was happening at all. He felt like a complete idiot but he was reminded his fears were valid since phobias caused a person to react this way to anything they were afraid of.

Stan was comforted by the fact that his mom was sitting in a chair next to him and was holding his hand while Dr. Steels began to point out the things around him.

"Whenever I need to get a good view of your teeth or a certain area in your mouth, I'm going to move this light around so I can see everything," he pulled down the hanging white light and clicked it on. Stan squinted in its glare. "I just need to ask Jessie here"- he spoke of the dental hygienist who had called Stan in earlier. "-to move it whatever which way. And the cool thing about it, if you don't want the light shining in your face, you can wear these"- he took a pair of neat-looking shades from a table nearby.

Stan held them in his hands. "I can wear shades while you work on me?"

"Of course," Dr. Steels smiled.

Stan looked at them. "That's so cool."

"Everything is customized for your comfort Stan. We even have different latex gloves that come in different colors and scents. It's not your usual scary and boring clear gloves."

Stan grinned. "So if I want you to use pink bubble-gum gloves"-

"We have 'em," Dr. Steels winked.

As nice as it was to learn about what would make Stan comfortable during any visits, the part in which he had no say was next: the tools. Dr. Steels left for a moment to allow Jessie to show Stan the basics. He shrank in the chair, clutching Sharon's hand as she explained the instruments. Even the little mirror on the stick gave Stan the chills. But he did warm up slightly when she showed him the little hose-like tools that squirted water and sucked up liquid in the mouth. She even allowed him to hold them himself. He turned on the little sucking one and giggled when it sucked the skin on his hand like a little vacuum. However, the tools with long, sharp ends to them had him call it quits. He leaped out the chair and went far back away from it. But Dr. Steels and Sharon were proud- he had been able to accomplish a lot that evening. He really was getting closer and closer to his goal. Dr. Steels suggested the next step Stan would have to take was to get used to lying back in the chair before he could finally have his teeth examined. He could do it; he had to prove it to himself that he could.

Tuesday evening. Stan was once again at the Cartritch home helping Mrs. Cartritch around, this time out in the yard. It was far more tedious today since the sun was out and he was actually feeling hot. Thankfully she came bearing iced tea ten minutes in and he wore a baseball hat to school today so it was better to block the sun from his eyes. He didn't complain though, he knew he had to keep working as long as it took until he found criminating evidence. A half hour later…

"I need to go in Stanley, my sister just called," Mrs. Cartritch indicated her cell and she went back inside.

Stan continued to pull weeds around the house. He wasn't paying too much attention until something caught his eye; a flash of something. He kicked aside some grass when he saw that the glare came from a small window below. He got on his knees and suddenly his whole body shivered with excitement and nerves; the window was from the basement. He looked to the left and the right before going on his elbows to look into the small window to see what was inside. He squinted, it was pretty dirty. His eyes went wide:

Tables lined the basement floor, as did cages. Large boxes, maybe machines were in the corner. But that's not what caught his eye; two dogs were running back and forth from a table and what had to be the door. He also saw a parrot in a cage squawking away. His stomach dropped at what he saw in the cage- a dead bird laying on the bottom. Stan backed away and threw up in the grass. It looked to be some sort of laboratory or experimental place. Trying to catch his breath, he went back to the window for another look. He didn't see anything else but he had seen enough. He backed away, far away from the window- and into a pair of legs.

"Stanley! Are you okay dear?" Mrs. Cartritch asked, holding another glass of tea.

Stan's face was pale, his eyes as round as dinner plates. He shook his head. "I- I gotta go."

"Go? But you aren't finished with your chores yet. If you leave now you might not"-

"I don't care, I need to go. I need to go." He looked at her confused face for a second before racing off and down the street. He ran all the way back home, not caring that it was tearing his lungs apart. As soon as he burst into his house, he collapsed on the floor coughing. Sharon hurriedly set up his nebulizer so he could get oxygen back into his lungs.

"Stanley, Stanley what's wrong? Why are you here so early?" she asked.

Stan shook his head, keeping hold of the mask, too many things he wanted to say but couldn't. Ten minutes later when he was able to breathe again he still could not tell his mom what happened. But he did know that he had to do something to help those animals. And it would be tonight.

"Exactly what are we doing again?" Cartman moaned later that night. (Stan had convinced his parents to allow Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny to spend the night).

"We're going over to the Cartritch's house and gather evidence that he's mistreating animals and show it to the police," Stan explained as he got a bag together.

"Why?"

Stan glared. "Because he's mistreating animals lard ass!"

"Ooooh, no, I learned my lesson from all the other times I've helped you with your gay hippie animal peace rallies _Stan_. I am not going to look like a dick in front of the world for some stupid animals _wimp_," Cartman poked at Stan.

"You are Cartman. We're those animals' only shot!"

To his surprise, not only did Cartman roll his eyes but Kyle.

"What?" he looked around.

Kyle bit his lip. "Nothing dude."

"_What_?" Stan demanded.

Kyle scratched his neck. "It's just that… we've heard those words a lot lately."

"For four years actually," Cartman corrected.

Stan gritted his teeth.

"Most of those times it doesn't work out either," Kyle continued.

"Ever," Cartman corrected.

"Goddamnit it'll work this time!" Stan shook. "I've been doing chores for the Cartrich's for weeks and I know something fishy is going down in the basement. I've heard dogs barking. Birds chirping. Scratching at the door. No one but Dr. Cartritch is allowed in, not even his wife. I think he may have done something to her recently to prevent her from trying to go into it." Stan knew he sounded crazy based on his friends' expressions but it didn't matter. "Look, I know this sounds insane but I promise you I know what I'm talking about. Just today… I- I saw something horrible in the basement window."

"What Stan?" Kyle asked.

Stan drew in a deep breath. "I saw weird things. Cages. Tables. Animals. It looked like some sort of mad scientist's lab. I know it's not right and I know we have to help those animals. Please, help me you guys."

Cartman was rubbing his chin. "Cartritch… that name sound familiar. Hey! Isn't he your dentist Stan?"

"No," Stan glared.

"Yeah he is. Dr. Cartritch. Ha, crazy, we're going to be breaking into your dentist's house!"

"_He is not my fucking dentist Cartman_!" Stan said furiously.

Cartman backed away. "Dude, what the fuck?"

Kyle and Stan shared a knowing look. Stan decided now was the best time to fess up. He couldn't keep a secret from anyone in the first place.

"I- I haven't seen him in two years Cartman. I- I have a p-phobia. Of going to the dentist."

The room was very quiet before Cartman broke out in hysterics and pointed at Stan.

"Ha-hahahaha! I _knew_ it! I knew something was going on! You were on our ass last month when we talked about the dentist! Does your 'mysterious' disappearances account for your stupid phobia too Stan? Does it?" Gold was practically shining in the fat boy's eyes.

"Yes. I've been getting… help."

Cartman began to laugh again.

"Okay okay, I have a phobia of going to the dentist. It's not that big a deal," Stan said sourly. "Look, I'm almost close to getting through my first appointment in two years. Meanwhile those animals are in trouble and we need to show the police. Who's with me?"

Midnight. Once Stan was sure his parents were asleep he and his friends took their bikes and rode off to Krofton Street where the Cartritch's lived. They were dressed in black for the occasion of course, in case they were spotted. Wordlessly, Stan indicated to the others to park their bikes on the side of the driveway out of sight. They crept up the driveway and into the lawn to the back where there was a door outside that led to the basement. All the curtains were drawn shut over the windows but they could be seen any time. They reached the basement door in the back.

"How do we get in?" Kyle whispered.

Stan stood there, looking at the padlock over the handles of the doors. "Bolt-cutters." He reached into the bag that was around his shoulders and pulled out a large pair of cutters. He tried to use them but he was too small and weak to do so, so together all four boys were able to break the lock off. With a deep breath, Stan opened the doors. A few mice scurried out as soon as it opened. One by one the boys climbed inside the dark and musky room. Stan coughed as he tried to see what was inside. He immediately began taking pictures even if he couldn't make out anything in the dark. (There was no way they were going to risk turning on the lights).

"Dude, it's too dark, let's go back tomorrow," Cartman spoke.

"No, we're gathering evidence now!" Stan argued. The boys spread out to take pictures of everything. Stan looked down when he felt a dog bump him. He patted the animal and moved on. Stan's heart leapt to his throat as he moved on. Even in the darkness he could make out animals in cages, looking thoroughly miserable. Cats cried out and a rabbit sat in the corner breathing heavily. There was a cat with no tail, another rabbit with one ear, and to his horror- two hamsters fused together somehow, clearly dead. His eyes watered.

"Stan, dude, I don't think you want to come over here…" Kyle called.

He knew he didn't want to see anything else but he felt almost as if someone had pushed him Kyle's direction. He stood in front of a row of dead animals in cages, all with deformities of some sort.

"Dude, it reeks in here," Cartman plugged his nose.

"Maybe we should leave Stan," Kenny spoke.

Stan didn't say anything for a while. He just stood there and gazed upon the poor unfortunate creatures. He touched a cat's soft paw. "They never had a chance…"

"Dude, what's this?" Cartman said near the back of the basement.

Stan hurried over to see what the fat boy had found. A fridge of some sort and a machine he had never seen. There was also a table where bottles were at, bowls, syringes, and medicines Stan had never heard of. He knew now what was going on: these poor animals were being subjected to strange experiments. He didn't know what kind, or why, but he knew that was the activity downstairs all this time. Judging by the dead and still suffering animals, they were not going the way Dr. Cartritch had planned.

Stan shook his head. "Let's get what we can and leave in two minutes guys. C'mon."

They took what they could before rushing outside, closing the doors, and placing a wooden plank on the handles. Sure it would be obvious first thing someone had broken into it when Dr. Cartritch saw in the morning, but it didn't matter. They had more than enough to show the authorities and to arrest the evil man. They just barely were able to get themselves back into the Marsh house and into Stan's bedroom without being detected. Both Stan and Cartman ran into Randy upstairs.

"What are you boys doing up?" he asked.

"Um, I was helping Cartman to some water downstairs," Stan fumbled.

Randy raised a brow before shrugging and going downstairs, muttering, "Gotta find my car keys before work tomorrow…"

The boys endured a long day at school the next day but as soon as it was over they went back to Stan's house to sort their evidence. They were almost finished wrapping up their notes on the matter when Sharon poked her head in.

"Stan, we have to leave in two minutes."

"For what?" his jaw dropped.

""We're going to go to Dr. Steel's today. Remember…" she didn't want to say anything in front of his friends in case they didn't know.

"It's all right Mom, they know," Stan sighed.

"Oh," Sharon looked surprised. "In that case- wrap up what you're doing Stan, we're going to try and get you used to lying in the chair today." She left.

Stan turned to Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny. "What am I going to do?" he indicated his computer where some pictures were uploaded on.

"We'll finish everything up Stan," Kyle reassured.

"But"-

"We'll finish everything and give it to the police. You don't have to worry about it. Now go on, you getting over your fear is more important Stan," Kyle forced his friend off his computer chair and to the door. Stan glared. "Well, the animals' lives are more important but… you still need to do this. Now go!"

Stan left with his mother and drove off to the children's dentistry as usual. Throughout the hour he was there, he had practice getting more used to the chair and lying back in it. As with anything it had taken time before he was able to do it for a minute. He hated feeling exposed once he felt the chair go back. He hated not being able to get a clear shot of what would happen next, but Dr. Steels assured him he would walk him through with everything and tell him what he was going to do next and anything else he needed to know that would help. The first trial run, Stan squeezed Sharon's hand as the chair went back. Dr. Steels put it in gear at different intervals. He leaned back for two minutes, then five, then ten, and so on. It wasn't as scary knowing his mother was right by, and Dr. Steels told the frightened boy that she was allowed in the room with him at all times. This, and with the knowledge he would know anything he wanted to know eased Stan's fears a bit and he was finally able to be in the chair unassisted for a solid ten minutes without comfort.

When Dr. Steels let the chair back up for the final time he turned to the Marshes.

"You have been doing marvelous so far Stan, I'm really proud of you," he smiled.

Stan grinned back.

"Each time you've seen me you were able to accomplish something to help put some of your fears at ease. That's not an easy thing to do."

"So where do we go from here?" Sharon asked, rubbing her son's arm.

Dr. Steels scratched his head. "This is what I was going to ask. Stan, how comfortable do you feel about being here now?"

"A lot better than how I was. I mean, I know I have options when it comes to pretty much everything, and that's cool. And I'm not afraid to ask questions…"

"How close is your goal would you say?"

Stan thought, he never really picked out a specific time he would or could meet what he chose as his goal in the fear and phobia meetings. "I… I feel good actually. I mean, I dunno when I'll be able to reach the goal but I think it will be… soon."

Dr. Steels smiled. "That's great to know then Stan. Listen, I'm not here to pressure you to come up with a specific time, I'm just happy to know you are building confidence in having your teeth examined. At this point I think we have all done what we can to help Stan's fears, so now it's pretty much up to him on when he thinks he can put everything into action."

Stan looked up at the faces of his mom and dentist. It was all up to him now. He felt confident, but when would he actually be ready?

Thursday. Stan was home, eating a homemade muffin as an after school snack before he would be driven to the Cartritch's for his usual Thursday afternoon chore list. He didn't mind again, to be doing it if it gave him five bucks each time. He was just a little afraid they would blame him for the break-in of the basement. He hadn't heard word yet if they found out the basement had been barged into but surely by now they had to know something was up. At least Dr. Cartritch. This made Stan even more nervous. Would he be sitting in his office and demand Stan help him organize it, before putting all the blame on him? There was no way he could know he had anything to do with it, Stan was certain he didn't leave behind any clues. But obviously Dr. Cartritch was still safe for there hadn't been any reports by the police that they had arrested him, and he knew his friends handed over the evidence yesterday. There was a lot he had to find out, and he didn't know how it was going to go down.

Stan soon found out he wouldn't have any time left to ponder these things for the front door crashed open and Kyle and Butters ran in.

"Stan! Stan! You have to come with us! Now!" Kyle tugged on his friend's arm.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

"Butters called me to tell me there was police activity on his street!"

"There- there is. Whole lot of police down at number 2144," Butters chimed in.

"2144? But, but that's the"-

"I know! I think the police are arresting Dr. Cartritch as we speak! C'mon!"

Stan hopped onto his bike and peddled as if his life depended on it. Was it true? Was that horrible man going to be brought to justice? Sure enough, once they reached Krofton Street police cars and investigators and vans of all sorts lined the street and 2144 Krofton Street, South Park.

"What did I miss?" Stan asked Cartman who was standing there; hand in a bag of Cheesy Poofs.

"Police barged in. It was sweet. Animal Control came by shortly after. I don't think they made any arrests yet, I didn't see anyone drag that scumbag from the house yet."

Stan blinked. "You- you actual care about what happened?"

"Dude, do you really think you were the only one who saw that poor calico with her tail missing?" Cartman said disgusted. "I counted six dead cats in that prison."

Stan smiled. "Thanks dude." He then saw police questioning a hysteric-looking Mrs. Cartritch on the driveway. He hurried over.

"I had nothing to do with it! I didn't!" she sobbed.

"Mrs. Cartritch!" Stan gasped.

"Stanley! Oh there you are. What is going on? How? Why? I don't understand what's going on!"

"Young man, according to Donnie Cartritch, you are a prime suspect in breaking and entering into his house Tuesday night," spoke one officer.

"That's silly! I keep saying it's silly! You're the closest boy my husband may know but really…Why would you do such a thing?" Mrs. Cartritch cried.

Stan however had a look of determination on his face. "Yeah, I broke in."

"_Stanley_!"

Stan looked somberly at her. "I had to Mrs. Cartritch. I had suspicions your husband was keeping animals hostage in his basement. Then on Tuesday when I was helping in the yard, I looked into the small basement window hidden by the grass and saw cages and everything. I- I had to see for myself what was going on."

The officers were writing like mad on their notepads now.

"What were you doing at this house in the first place 'Stanley'?" asked a black officer with a deep voice.

"He's our h-helper. I've been paying him five dollars twice a week to help around the house," the older woman answered.

Before he knew it, Stan was explaining everything he knew to five different officers. From the sounds, smells, and everything in-between.

"But I don't think she had anything to do with it," Stan was saying, speaking of Mrs. Cartritch. "I had a feeling Dr. Cartritch shut her up if she asked questions. I don't think even she knew what was going on in the basement. She just said no one was allowed in."

As the investigation wore on, it was revealed that Dr. Cartritch was a controlling man. He had threatened his wife on several occasions that if she went into the basement, she would regret it. He dominated the relationship, house, finances, and everything. Mrs. Cartritch had a feeling he may have been up to something but didn't dare go behind his back. Stan walked out of the house again and went up to one of the Animal Control officers.

"What- what did you find in there?" he frowned.

The woman sighed as she helped an injured rabbit into a cage and placed it in her van. "It was pretty bad in there kid. Apparently this Cartritch man has been dealing drugs and prescriptions not yet approved for usage on these animals. He's been doing all kinds of medical and scientific experiments. Wanted to see if cats can survive without their tails, whiskers, bunnies without their long ears, if a dog is still useful without a sense of smell… you name it, he's done it."

Stan's stomach bubbled. "And the animals?"

"Some are in pretty bad shape. We're taking them in to be looked over. If just a few are healthy enough to be adopted, we've done our job."

Cartman, Kyle, Butters, and Kenny walked up to the boy in the poofball hat.

"I was right. He was evil. All this time… he was evil," Stan said quietly.

"I thought that was a bit of a stretch whenever you said that but, yeah. You were right Stan," Kyle spoke.

Suddenly two police men walked past them with a struggling Dr. Cartritch in cuffs.

"I didn't do any of this! Talk to Marty! He's the one with the drugs! He was the one selling!" he spotted Stan and glared. "You! You little _punk_! You lost me my business!"

"Killing innocent animals is a _business_ to you?" Stan spat.

"I was helping the animals! Trying to create super animals! Make them better than they are! I was doing a good thing! And thanks to this bastard!" He went closer to the child. "I always knew you were trouble Stanley! Nothing but trouble! Causing problems in my practice, the worst child I had ever dealt with! And your stupid mother! Your stupid mother is the one you should be blaming for your experiences with me!"

"What?" Stan's mouth flapped open, disgusted.

"It was her! She was the one who allowed you to walk around with milk and juice in your arms like a pacifier! She was the one who caused the pain and agony of those two cavities by the time you were two! Not me! Bet you didn't see that one coming did you?"

Stan stepped forward, face set, eyes blazing. He wasn't afraid now. No. "_You_! It was all you! You were evil from the start! I always said it and here's proof! You treated me like shit whenever I saw you, you had no idea what the fuck you were doing, and you torment animals!" He looked up at the confused cops. "Make sure this man has his dental practice taken away and is never allowed to come within ten feet of any animal!"

With difficulty, the police were able to put the offender in a cop car and drive off. Kyle stood next to Stan.

"Dude, you confronted Dr. Cartritch," he said in awe.

"Yeah, and it kinda felt good," Stan still looked ready for a confrontation.

"What are you going to do now then?"

Stan watched as the police car turned the corner and drove into the setting sun. He drew in a deep breath. "I think… I'm ready to go to the dentist now."

Sharon called up South Park Children's Dentistry first thing after Stan told her the surprising news. The receptionist informed her Dr. Steels could make Stan his last appointment for the day tomorrow. It was cutting it close for Stan but he took up the offer. He didn't think he'd be any more ready if he waited. At 4:00 that Friday afternoon, Sharon parked the car in front of the building between the tanning salon and hobby shop. Stan was surprised to see Kyle standing there, as well as Jason when he stepped out.

"We wanted to wish you good luck before you went!" Jason smiled.

"You ready dude?" Kyle placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder.

Stan looked up at the bubbly blue letters spelling out South Park Children's Dentistry. He nodded.

Sharon held out her hand for him to take. He grasped it firmly, a look of determination on his face. He turned his head back to see Kyle smiling and Jason giving him thumbs up before they stepped into the building. Sharon walked over to the usual smiling receptionist.

"Hello, I'm here to bring in my son today," she said.

"Oooh yes, looks like someone is finally ready for his big day today isn't he?" beamed the kind woman, looking at Stan, who looked away embarrassed.

Stan played a quick game on the X-box in the waiting room before the hygienist Jessie opened the door to the back rooms and called him in. Stan looked to his mom. Sharon took hold of his hand and together they peacefully walked into the usual room where Stan had been getting used to everything the past weeks. Stan took up a chair next to his mom that wasn't the reclining one in the middle. Before anything, Jessie asked Stan and his mother questions about his teeth such as when he last lost a tooth, if any of them bothered him, his daily tooth care routine, and things like that.

"Okay Stan, before Dr. Steels comes in I need to take a complete set of x-rays of your teeth okay?" Jessie said.

"Okay…"

"Why don't you sit in the chair for me- good job! Have you ever had x-rays taken before Stan?" she spoke as she moved aside a few things to get the process going.

"Yeah. My arm, hand, chest…" Stan said quietly.

"This might be a bit different than those times honey. I'm going to place little plastic strips in your mouth and you have to bite down on them okay? But don't move them around!"

While it made him nervous Stan was able to have a complete set of x-rays of his teeth and jaw performed without too much struggle. Jessie left and Stan and Sharon waited for Dr. Steels to step in.

"You're doing fine so far sweetie," Sharon rubbed her son's hand.

The blond doctor walked in with a smile on his face a minute later.

"How are you doing Stan?" he shook his hand.

"Okay for now."

"Glad to hear. Again, today should go by smoothly if you remember everything everyone had taught you, and you taught yourself all right?"

Stan nodded. The two talked a bit about sports like last time before the dentist did anything and soon enough Stan felt more loose and comfortable as he sat in the chair.

"The first thing I'm going to do is feel around your jaw okay son? Just to make sure nothing feels chipped or out-of-place."

Stan nodded and ended up giggling as the man's hands moved around his jaw and neck for he was so ticklish. After, Dr. Steels took a seat in a rolling chair and rolled Stan's way.

"I'm going to use the little mirror now to look at your teeth at all angles. Do you think you can let me do that Stan?"

Gulping, Stan nodded, although he looked at Sharon who was at his side in case he needed a hand to hold. Stan requested banana-scented gloves so Dr. Steels pulled out said blue rubber gloves and a little mirror. This was Stan's first road block: he still wasn't used to having fingers poking around his mouth and panicked whenever he felt the tool inside move over to a different area and it was difficult to keep his mouth open long enough and wide enough. Sharon kept telling him everything was okay and he had nothing to fear as she held his hand. But what brought tears to Stan's eyes was what came next: one of the tools with a funny hook-like end. Dr. Steels explained he was going to use it to count all his teeth and test the strength of each one to see if any were loose but Stan still turned his face away from it. Sharon had to hold onto his hand tighter as he finally allowed the dentist to peek inside again. He cried out several times as he felt the tool touch a tooth even though it didn't hurt.

"You are doing wonderful so far Stan, you really are," praised Dr. Steels as he put the tool out of sight.

"Does- does it look normal?" Stan sniffed.

"I count 27 teeth, eight which are baby teeth and/or permanent ones that will come in as your jaw grows, which is normal," Dr. Steels smiled.

"Are you sure? I know I have a couple gaps…" Stan looked scared.

"I wouldn't worry too much Stan, you're only nine. You still have several pairs of teeth that need to come in. At your age kids have smiles that look identical to yours. You really shouldn't worry about it."

Stan decided to let it go; he was right, pretty much every kid in school had missing teeth and gaps and such at this age. The rest of the exam went by as nice as anyone could hope for. By the time Dr. Steels was finished the x-rays were ready.

"Shall we?" he smiled at Sharon and Stan and they went over to a light box where the man placed several film images onto it.

"That's my teeth?" Stan pointed out.

"Yeah, looks funny doesn't it?" chuckled the man.

Stan looked at all his teeth. It was far more interesting and fun to look at than he thought it would be.

"What's that?" he pointed at what looked to be a tooth but wasn't showing up like other teeth were.

"That's a permanent tooth, waiting to erupt. You lost your last tooth around a month ago right? Well the permanent one is now trying to make it's way up like all your other adult teeth are."

"What?"

"You see Stan, our teeth rest inside our gums before they erupt. When you were a baby you had a mouth full of teeth, they were just under your gums until they decided to pop up one day!" Dr. Steels explained.

"Wow! That is so _weird_," Stan commented.

Sharon smiled in knowing her son was finding this interesting, not scary.

"So what do these x-rays tell you Dr. Steels?" Stan inquired in that innocent child-like way.

"Yes, what?" Sharon had to ask.

Dr. Steels rubbed his chin. "I don't see any real problems. Looks like somebody's been doing a pretty good job cleaning his teeth even though he hasn't seen a dentist in two years."

Stan smiled.

He tapped one image. "However, right here… I see a bit of a cavity."

Stan's face fell. Sharon sighed. Dr. Steels looked surprised.

"Hey, why the long faces? It's nothing horrible. It's the only one that I see which is good. You told me how much you love drinking soda and eating candy Stan so I'm impressed."

"Are you?" Stan raised a brow.

"Well then what should we do about it?" Sharon rubbed her son's head.

Dr. Steels turned to them. "It is going to have to be taken care of sometime soon. I don't want to scare you but the longer it waits the deeper it could get. Now I don't want to force Stan to do anything, and he's already done remarkable today. He doesn't have to have his teeth cleaned and polished if he doesn't want to. So if you could schedule those things to be taken care of next week some time? That might be the best thing, for Stan's sake."

Sharon looked down at Stan. "What do you want to do sweetie?"

Stan's brows formed a slightly worried look. "Can- can you do it today?"

Dr. Steels blinked. "Why I can but I don't think you'd want to wouldn't you?"

Stan looked down. "I kinda want to."

"You really think you can handle a filling today sweetheart?" Sharon asked surprised.

"Yeah. I kinda want to get everything over with Mom. I'm afraid if I wait, I'll get really nervous about it. I want it done today."

So it was decided, Dr. Steels would fill in the cavity in Stan's tooth then and there. As Stan waited in the chair while Dr. Steels and Jessie got ready, he hoped he wasn't making a terrible mistake. He wanted everything done while it was still fresh in his mind. If he thought about how horrible it may or may not be if he had it done next week, he knew it would only make him feel worse. Before anything, Jessie took out a pair of cool blue sunglasses for Stan to wear. Dr. Steels placed a bib around his neck and put on a fresh pair of gloves.

"Are you sure you're ready for this son?" Dr. Steels asked.

Stan swallowed and nodded slightly. He gripped onto his mother's hand as the chair was lowered and the light adjusted for the dentist and hygienist to see. Tears burned Stan's eyes already as he tried to calm his breathing. Sharon was back at offering words of comfort.

"You can do it Stanley, I know you can. You're making Mommy _so_ proud of you today," she told him.

While it took some time before Dr. Steels could asset the tooth on the lower left side, the thing that made Stan flip above anything at all that day was when he saw the needle.

"I can't do it Mom, I can't do it," he cried.

"Yes, yes you can, yes you can honey," Sharon told him, stroking his hand and arm.

"No! Noooo!"

Jessie helped him to some tissue to blow his nose and wipe his tears.

"Mooom! Mommy I can't do it! It's gonna _huuurt_!" Stan sobbed.

"We can always do this another time son," Dr. Steels spoke.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Fifteen. Stan was determined to go through with this; he just needed to force himself to. He knew it wasn't going to be like other times. This was Dr. Steels; he was so much better at everything than Dr. Cartritch was. Twenty minutes into it Stan was finally able to proceed. Sharon had to hold his arms down so he wouldn't move out at her son's request, and Jessie had to help keep his head still, but Dr. Steels was finally able to inject the boy with the Novocain. As soon as he was done Stan was offered more tissue to wipe his face with as he cried out his last few tears.

"Did that hurt as much as you thought it would son?" Dr. Steels asked.

Stan sniffed. "N-no."

The adults laughed.

"Ahh, I get that all the time," the blond man rolled his eyes.

With the scariest part of the filling out of the way Stan was able to keep still enough for the man to finish. (After another few moments of reassurance when he pulled out the drill). Once Stan had the tooth filled, Jessie wrapped up with the cleaning and polishing of his teeth and he was done for the day.

"You did so well baby! Oh I'm so proud of you!" Sharon cried out as she embraced her son and kissed his cheek.

"I am really impressed with you Stan, I really am," Dr. Steels commented. "Everyone always claims they're the worst thing I had ever seen, but really, you are nothing compared to other kids I've seen before. And adults."

Stan grinned. "My mouf is fuddy."

"Aww, I know. You're going to feel fuzzy in your tongue and lip and cheek for a little while but it'll wear off. I'm so happy you were so brave today son. You really showed a lot of courage. Not only did you allow me to examine you, but you were able to have a tooth filled and your teeth cleaned! That's very remarkable indeed for someone who had such a fear of it before," Dr. Steels continued to praise.

He did feel good. Dr. Steels and Sharon shared some words and scheduled another appointment for him next week where he would be examined by an orthodontist to see if he would need orthodontic work in the future, but that was the future. And Stan could hardly care if he needed braces when he was thirteen. That was years from now. Nothing would be as traumatic as what he went through in the past, and nothing would be more nerve-wracking to deal with than what he went through today. He had a phobia and overcame it. He was able to expose the evil inside Dr. Cartritch he always knew was there. He was able to make a new friend and meet another great doctor who he could talk about his fears with. Kyle didn't make fun of him for it. Everyone around him didn't give up on him.

In many ways, facing his phobia of going to the dentist was one of the greatest things Stan could ever ask for. He looked fear and repressed memories in the eye and came out on top. As Stan walked out of the dentistry with new floss, toothbrush, and squirt gun in hand, he felt like he could take on the world.

_Thank-you so much for reading. I really hoped you enjoyed the story. It was a lot of fun to write even if it seemed to take forever. Please do leave a review. I love reading what others think!_

_Lots of love: Rose, February 23rd, 2011_


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